


The Wild Things Will Chase You Down

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Side Ziall, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nowadays, Louis liked working at Zayn's bookshop, he really did.  It was one of the only things he liked anymore, save for Zayn himself.  And Niall too, Louis really fucking liked Niall. But then there was this one customer, though. ("Hi. I'm Harry. I was wondering if maybe, like, I could hang a few of these up in your windows? It's for a walk for charity, breast and pancreatic cancer research actually." One of Harry's big, knobby hands reached up to brush the fringe off his forehead, and Louis had to bite back a smile. Charity. Cancer research. Wasn't everyday someone came knocking on your door asking for something, well, good for the world.)</p><p>(Or the one in which Louis' scattered and sort of a mess, Harry is happy as hell, Niall loves Zayn like he loves playing guitar and eating food (irrevocably), Zayn likes to read and paint, and Liam djs a bit sometimes. Things happen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a Fucking Madhouse In My Mind (I'm Alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> perhaps, if you like long and less uninterrupted, you should read this as an "entire work" because i understand the chapters are sort of short. hope you enjoy x

There was a time when Louis loved to play footie. He was fucking good at it, too. Sometimes, on days like this particular one, when it was rainy and dreary and utterly grey, he would miss playing footie. He always was at his best in the rain. It was like the clouds and the storms and the piss from the clouds sparked a fire inside of him, and he would outrun the fast-spreading puddles and kick the football like it was his chemistry teacher's pinched-up face and slip in the mud every once in a while and just _laugh_.  And when it was bright and warm and sunny outside, the feelings of nostalgia would slip right away, and Louis would scowl and scoff at his childhood and get back to work.  

Nowadays, Louis liked working at Zayn's bookshop, he really did.  It was one of the only things he liked anymore, save for Zayn himself.  And Niall too, Louis really fucking liked Niall.  The thing was, though, seeing them happy and loved-up and settled made him feel a tiny bit ill.  It wasn't like he wasn't used to it, no, he definitely was by now.  After the first couple of months of beds creaking and walls shaking, Louis had learned to just... breath.  He'd manage to rid himself of all the resent tied to his two best friends.  He couldn't hate them for being happy, being in love.  In fact, after a bit of soul-searching (that Louis immediately abounded after his first and only revelation) he realized that that was actually exactly what he wanted for his two very best mates.  To be happy.  

Nevertheless, Louis just couldn't bring himself to smile as much as he used to.  And when he did smile, he would start to remember things from way back when he was happy-go-lucky and so fucking bright, like the sun, Zayn once told him.  And those memories were just too painful.  He wasn't particularly sure, why, exactly.  They just were.  After a while, Louis had stopped trying to get to the roots of his frustration and resentment and _anger_.  It wasn't that he didn't want to know, exactly.  He just wasn't sure that discovering the reason why his head was so bleak would change anything.  After all, he could sit behind a desk all fucking day, ignoring customers and pensively repeating to himself over and over again,  _this is what fucked you up, this was the start, this is how it spiraled, don't you care?_ but that wasn't going to do him any good when he'd still be going home to the same lousy bed with the same lousy thoughts.

Point is, though, Louis liked his job.  Loved it, even.  And over the past few months it had grown into this strange and mangled source of  _happiness_ for him, and he sure as fuck wasn't going to take that for granted.  Maybe to the outsider, coming in late to work and taking frequent breaks everyday and maybe swearing like a whole fucking  _lot_ more than he was supposed would be considered as the actions of someone taking their work for granted.  But Louis knew differently, and Zayn did too, and Niall, even.  Louis was just... he needed Louis Time.  Time to breathe and think about nothing except the words on the pages of whatever book was in front of him and time to drink hot tea and maybe get a bit high every once in a while, too.  Thing is, Louis was coping.  That's what Zayn would tell Niall every time they'd fight about him.  Louis knew it, too, he knew that they fought sometimes, and god did that feel awful. Like. Louis wasn't a child, and Zayn and Niall weren't his parents, and he couldn't seem to just stop.  No matter what he did, he would worry them.  Louis knew that they loved him, and he knew that they knew he loved them back, but it didn't make getting by every day much easier.  Sometimes, he would slip out of his room and pad into the living room quietly, socked-feet pointed inwards and he would clear his throat.  He'd sit in between Niall and Zayn on the worn-down leather couch, switch off the tv mutely, and sigh a bit.   _Don't fight, not because of me,_ he'd say.  And their eyes would grow in size a bit and they'd shake their heads and _No, god Lou, no.  Never about you.  Just. Couple's quarrels and all,_ they'd say.  But Louis would know they were lying, and he'd maybe make them some popcorn to make up for it, and snuggle in between the two as he would drift off to sleep.  He was coping, really.

And today was no different than any other day, besides the minor pounding in the back of Louis' skull.  He'd taken a few paracetamol at about half past, so it'd already started to kick in.  Louis was nodding along to the what the woman in front of him was saying, but his mind was elsewhere.  Outside, actually, in the pouring rain, about a half block over where a large green field had been erected just less than a month ago.

He blinked his eyes back into focus, though, when the woman cleared her throat for what he expected to be second, maybe third time.  "I mean, you do work here, yes?"  She was standing across the table from him, dressed in a plain white blouse and a tight black skirt.  Her shoes pointed at the toes, they were white as snow.   _Ugly ass things_ , Louis thought to himself.  He glanced away from the woman's feet and back up to her face.  She looked young, thirty maybe, with suspicious laugh lines that around her eyes that didn't quite look right on her scowling face.  The hands on the hips only made it worse.  Louis, finally, raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

"Probably would've stopped you sooner if I didn't," he responded mildly, standing up and stretching shamelessly.  His back cracked twice, and. Well.  Maybe he wasn't exactly shameless about that bit.  He was only twenty two, honest. Too young for creaking backs and sore joints like the ones in the backs of his knees.   _They miss footie, Louis,_ Niall had said once.   _They're being, like.  Underworked or summat_.  Louis had pretended that he hadn't heard the other boy, but made up for being an ass by ordering and paying for the pizza that night.  He'd even smiled indulgently at Niall when he'd said something just so...  _Niall._   And he'd laughed like he hadn't in months, because Niall could do that to him,  Niall could make Louis laugh like he was without a care in the world, and Louis knew that was a rare experience for anyone, and that he was lucky to have someone like Niall in his life. Louis really did love him, he really did.  "Although I might have dozed off for a moment there, so my previous statement might not be completely reliable.  It's a fucking madhouse in my mind," he added sort of jokingly, as a bit of an after thought.

The woman just frowned, annoyed. "Do you have it or not?  My niece's birthday is in three days and she could really use a good book.  Maybe if her parentscan't do it, a nice author like David Glover can." God, her voice was so  _shrill_.  Louis could feel the corners of his mouth turning down and could feel the scowl on his own face.  He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and closed his eyes.  Counted to one, two, three.  Opened his eyes.

"What was the title, again?" Louis asked, already turning away from the woman and walking up the the unmanned counter, spinning the computer screen around so he could type in the authors name.   _Glover, David._

"The Young Oxford Book of the Human Being: The Body, The Mind, and the Way We Live," she said sharply, voice trailing after Louis.  He made his way to the psychology section.  There was this one shelf, though it was a bit more of a table with two levels than an actual shelf, and smirked a bit.  It was in between where the psychology and sociology section and the self help section were set up.  "Sounds like quite the gift, Ma'am," Louis said, bending over slightly and running his fingers along the titles.  He stopped when he saw the book he was looking for, and pulled it out of from beneath a book on surviving life as a teenage girl.  The cover was as cheesy as the title, a mosaic of four different faces strategically placed to make up one big, patched up and mismatched one.

The woman scoffed, grabbing the book from Louis' hands impatiently.  "I'd like to buy it," she announced, thinly-pencil eyebrows raised.

"Good heavens, I didn't even know we had such a thing. Kind of ridiculous, isn't it? Not the book, of course... the fact that I've been missing out on reading such a beauty. Of course you want to buy it, it's got to be a right  _gem_ ," Louis responded, leading the woman to the counter.  She paid for the book silently, took her change silently, and snatched the bag from Louis hands silently.  She turned remember on her heels and only stopped once she'd reached the door, shooting Louis one last final glare as the bells chimed her exit.  Louis exhaled loudly, curling his bottom lip so his breath would blow a few stray bits of messy hair from his face.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd cut it.  Actually, he could, but.  It'd been a while, was the point.

He'd just closed his eyes again when he heard a small thud.  Louis groaned, peaking through one half-lidded eye as he watched a tall, gangly boy bend over messily to pick up the few books he'd dropped.  He obviously didn't realize anyone was watching, and caught his beanie in one hand right as it slid off his head when he was straightening upright. Upon a second glance, Louis thought that maybe he wasn't quite a boy.  A young, very young, man maybe.  He was all long and lean muscle and milky white skin and shining green eyes that matched his sweater (it was much too big, really, couldn't the boy- man- see that?) and he had curls that looked positively springy.  The guy placed the books back on the stand he'd bumped into, quite meticulously, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he tried to get the presentation to look just right.  Louis watched in fascination as the guy bent down yet again, this time collecting the light pink fliers that were littering the ground.  Louis closed his eyes again, waiting to be approached.

After a moment he heard another, much smaller thump, and then a small cry.  "Oh my fucking  _ow_ ," a voice grumbled and. Wow, okay, so his voice was sexy.  And shit, Louis actually thought something was  _sexy_.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought something was  _sexy_.  Sure, he'd shagged more guys and more girls in the past year than most people do throughout all their years of uni, but none of it, like.  Meant anything.  Louis wasn't good at meaning something.  "Uhm, 'scuse me? Y'alright?" the guy said, voice cracking slightly.

Louis cracked an eye open.  "Hi," he said, slightly less dryly than normal.  He uncrossed his ankles and lowered his legs from the top of the desk.  "Yes, M'alright. How can I help you?"

The other guy smiled this big, bright smile, eyes twinkling.  "Hi. I'm Harry.  I was wondering if maybe, like, I could hang a few of these up in your windows?  It's for a walk for charity, breast and pancreatic cancer research actually."  One of Harry's big, knobby hands reached up to brush the fringe off his forehead, and Louis had to bite back a smile.  Charity.  Cancer research.  Wasn't everyday someone came knocking on your door asking for something, well, good for the world.  Louis rubbed his eyes and sniffed, reaching out to take one of the fliers.  On the front has saw was actually a purple banner upon which was printed in thin black scroll 'walk to save lives: pancreatic cancer research,' and underneath the purple one was another banner, a pink one, that blended in with the background of the paper and said 'walk to save lives: breast cancer research.' Louis ran his fingers across the words as his eyes scanned the rest of the page.  "Are these all hand-written?" Louis asked quietly, looking up at the other boy.  Harry, his name was Harry.

Harry smiled again, grin nearly splitting his face in half.  "I did 'em myself.  Figured a shitty old printer that glitches in the middle of a page just wouldn't do the cause justice.  Also, I, uh, I've kind of set aside most of my extra spending money, for the walk actually, I didn't really feel it necessary to pay to use a machine at an office supply store," he said, a bit sheepishly.  Louis just kind of blinked.

"How many have you made?" he found himself asking, still a tad bit transfixed.

Harry paused, thinking.  "Two hundred and fifty or so, I think.  I've already put up about one hundred or so, I've given some to be handed out too.  I have maybe thirty left, and you're sort of my last stop.  Figured I could just, like, depend on my Good People Radar for a bit and hand 'em out on the street or something," he said, still smiling.  He raised his eyebrows.  "So can I do it? Put a post or two up, I mean?"

Louis just sighed quietly, holding out his hand.  "Give me twenty of them, will you? You can put two or three up in the windows, sure, and I'll pass out the rest?  I've got a perfectly average machine in the back that can make a few dozen more copies.  Maybe the less prominent people on your Good People Radar can get the non-handwritten ones."

Harry just grinned back at him.  "Really? That'd be, like.  Amazing," he breathed, pushing more hair away from his face.  He hand a nice face, Louis thought.  Nostrils maybe a bit big, eyes a bit wide, a freckle or two on his pale skin, lips too plump for the rest of him.  It was nice.  Louis shook his head and blinked again, making grabby hands.  "Hand 'em over, then," he said.

Harry's nose wrinkled, spinning a bit upon himself until he grabbed a small role of tape out of his back pocket. "I guess I'll just..." He motioned towards the front of the store.  Louis just nodded, and snatched up the rest of the fliers.  He leafed through them gently before tapping them on the desk into a perfect, neat pile.  He then turned to the guy, Harry, and watching as he fumbled a bit, trying to lean over the display in the windows without knocking anything else over.  Finally, he got three papers tacked up, two in the big window, and one in the small one by the poetry section.  Then he turned back to Louis, grabbing the few papers that were left on the desk that Louis didn't take, and tucked them away into a folder in his bag.  He gave Louis one big, final grin, and said, "Thanks.  You're a real pal, mate."  And then just like the woman before him, he turned on his heels (he was wearing some strange leather boots though, not white witch shoes), and stumbled out the door.  The boy was working to make a successful walk for charity, and could hardly even walk in a straight line himself.  And again, like the woman before him, Harry turned around, this time already outside the door, and smiled at Louis once more through the glass.


	2. God's Punishing You For Getting a Head Start

When Louis was exactly fifteen years and two days old, his mum decided it was just the right time to break the news to him. His birth father, whom he hadn't been in contact with in two years, had passed away over six months ago. His mother's excuse for not telling him sooner was something along the lines of _Lou, I was just trying to look out for you. I mean look, baby, look at all this family around you that loves and cares for you, in a way your father never could. I'm so sorry, Lou baby._ He'd thrown up in the sunflower vase next to the main entrance of the house about ten minutes after, and had later spent the night at Stan's playing R-rated video games and getting pissed off Stan's mother's preferred raspberry vodka. He'd also cried and puked some more there, too. Within six more months he'd given up any extracurriculars besides football to watch the girls after his mum had picked up another shift. And within two years after that, he'd even lost footie. He could still remember thinking, _This is it. This is where my life fucking ends_ , as he had handed in his green and white striped jersey with the solid '17' printed on the back. Looking back (which Louis tried to do as little as humanly possible), Louis wasn't so sure that was true. After all, things hadn't stopped just for Louis after his grand gesture of failure. In fact, things began to spiral more quickly than ever until a horrible tornado had moved into his life. That was, however, probably the first time Louis could remember thinking to himself, _Happiness is not for you, mate._ Two weeks after he had dropped the team, his parents, Mark and Johanna split up and his family was torn to bits. And if things hadn't all gone to shit by then, they were about to. Louis hadn't known it at the time, but he was about to lose his granddad, his best friend, and then his mind in turn. Louis didn't know a thing.

It had been years since Louis had spoken to his dad, Mark, that is.  Louis desperately wanted to keep it that way, and apparently so did Mark.  After a couple of years, Louis had stopped jumping up at the sound of his phone, checking wildly to see if it was his dad.  He stopped saying no to weekend road trips with his boys, no longer hopefully (and pitifully) waiting for a call.  But the thing was, though, Mark was sort of like footie to Louis.  Most days, he'd put the swirling thoughts away in the very back pits of his mind, but when the weather and the people and the air around him were just so, he'd be unable to keep the thoughts contained and they'd break free through the gates of his mind.  When Louis went home that night, he had thoughts about Mark as he had rushed to jump onto the tube just as the doors were closing in.  There was this one time he could remember running down the stairs, racing Mark as they skidded to a stop in front of the tracks.  In the rush of sprinting, Louis had dropped his ice cream cone on the second to last step, leaving a messy puddle of pink on the concrete.  Mark had just laughed and pulled Louis towards his side.   _God's punishing you for getting an illegal head start  Louis.  That's what this is._  Louis had just harumphed, grin in place, and said  _Whatever, mum has more at home.  It's Lot's favourite, so she's got like_ loads, _Mark Tomlinson.  Loads. 'M all set._   Ten years later, Louis was waiting for the train to stop, clicking on his ipod just to drown out his mind.

When he arrived back at his apartment, Niall was padding around in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of pants, feat as bare as his scrawny chest.  He was flipping bacon in a pan, Louis suspected, and the whole flat smelled of just that.  Zayn was on the couch, that dammed leather couch (a gift from Zayn's mum after she had done a bit of furnishing and had replaced most of the furniture on the first floor of Zayn's childhood home), and there was a crisp, new-looking book in his hands.  Louis dropped his coat over one of the arm chairs and sunk down onto the ground, laying flat on his stomach. "Public transportation smells lik death," he mumbled into the carpet. He might have huffed and puffed a bit when a pinch of lint had shot straight to his windpipe, but he tried not to cough. 

Zayn only grunted out a laugh, lowering his feet from the coffee table and toeing Louis' bum with one foot.  "Could buy a bike, Louis.  Or even, like, a _real car_.  Even the shittiest car has got to be better than the tube," he said, and Louis heard pages being turned.  Louis groaned.

"Can't you just like, show up at your own fucking bookshop for once? And like, maybe check up on it?  Then I could just get a ride from  _you._ I mean, that sounds pretty reasonable to me, doesn't it Niall?" Louis said, raising his voice a bit at the end. There was a bit of bumping around coming from the kitchen, but Niall had called back a lazy  _Yeah, sure Lou_ just the same.  Louis chuckled a bit into the flooring, eyes still scrunched shut.

"Maybe you should get up, you lazy sod.  Take a bath, rub those fucking contacts out of your eyes, brush your hair, put on some clean clothes,  might cheer you up a bit," Zayn said, and.  Was Louis really that gross?  Almost as if he had read his mind, Zayn added, "Honest, Lou.  You're fucking lovely, you know that.  But a bit of a scrub and self indulgence might do you some good."  From the kitchen, Niall shouted his consonance. Louis groaned again, being the dramatic little fucker that he was.  But after a moment or two, he got up slowly, gave Zayn a small pat on the head in consolation, and padded down the small and crappily lit hall to his small, haphazard room.  Begrudgingly, he clicked his music back on, full blast this time around, and took his sweet time picking all the dirty clothing up off the ground.  After the fist armful had gotten to be to much, he had to dump the clothes on the bed and start collecting more.  After a small heap had been constructed on his only piece of actual furniture  Louis stumbled back into the hall and grabbed a hamper to fill.  Once he was done, he left the basket in the doorway of ZaynandNiall's room, a little note scrawled on pink paper saying,  _thanks for the inspiration, twat. now you get to help a brotha out, won't you? xxxxxxx louis 'the tommo' tomlinson_.  Next he replaced the towels in his tiny little bathroom with new ones, and then threw out his empty shampoo bottles (replacing them with one of the unopened ones stored underneath ZaynandNiall's bathroom sink.  Louis was, admittedly, a bit of a lazy sod.  Zayn had said it himself, and Zayn kind of did know Louis better than anyone else). Finally, he peeled off his dirty clothing, dropping everything to the floor next to the toilet, and stepped into the warm water of the shower.  Louis talked himself into doing a bit of scrubbing, as Zayn had called it.  He washed up quietly, running his soapy hands lightly over a big bruise on the back of his thigh from when he had fallen off his stool a few days ago at the shop.  Suddenly, his was sinking to the floor of the tub, stretching out his legs and his arms and wincing at the creaking joints. 

Louis spent about twenty minutes in that dammed tub, and when he had finally gotten out of the water and dried off so he could change into his softest and cleanest clothing, he noticed that the laundry basket at the foot of his bed.  The pink note Louis had previously written on had been turned over.   _Ass_ , it now said.  Louis sighed, toeing the thing away and tumbling onto the mattress.  He had never invested in a bed frame or anything of the sort, so his big and clunky and super comfy mattress sat on the ground, nudged up against the middle of the wall adjacent to the door.  He lay there for a while, breathing in and out, one hand resting over his naked belly as he felt his own chest expand and deflate.  Finally, he closed his eyes and pulled the thin white covers Zayn or Niall had left at the end of his bed around himself.  And Louis fell asleep just like that, naked and worn down and warm and clean.

 

Louis Tomlinson liked to go to clubs.  That was another thing he liked, clubs.  The best part was hearing your favourite song playing, the song you had requested yourself, when you were dancing with your favourite people.  At least, Louis thought that best.  There was this guy, Liam his name was, who Niall had met at the bakery a couple of weeks ago, and the two had really hit it off.  That was the thing about Niall.  He could enter a shop in hopes of leaving with some warm pastries and sweet tea, and could leave with two new friends and a new set of jokes.  Niall had come home grinning and singing  _pies and croissants, ladies, up and up!,_ banging on both his own and Louis' doors to wake up his friends.  "I've made a friend who works as a dj at the club, right, called The Funny Buddha or summat, and we are going to go visit said club when he's on duty-" insert a little salute "and we are gonna tell him how amazing he is and how rad the job is and make him feel good about his life and- No! Don't  _touch_ that Lou, you know you don't like those- no, don't get your grime on 'em, they're  _mine_."  Anyways, this guy, Liam Payne, was dj-ing that night and he had even gotten the bouncer,  _Aidan_ Louis thought, to let them skip the line.  Not that there was much of a line, mind, but it was still pretty fucking cool.  And so that was how and why Louis had landed himself a third drink, something spicy and fruity that burned his throat, humming along as he watched his mates dance.  He reached up absently, tugging the scooped neck of his black teeshirt away from his skin a bit to fan himself.  He brushed his messy fringe away from his face and puffed up his cheeks indelicately.   _Maybe_ , Louis thinks to himself,  _I'm a tiny bit drunk_.  He denied the offer of a fourth shot, but winked stupidly at the guy manning the bar before turning back to watch his friends.

Suddenly, Louis felt a rough poke in his spine, and yelped quite loudly. He spun dizzily, narrowing his eyes at the guy in front of him.  "I'm pretty sure you're my lucky charm or some other shit," the boy said.  Louis squinted at the guy in front of him and  _oh._  "Oh," he said, plunging his hand out dumbly.

The guy, Harry Louis thought his name to be, only grinned and shook Louis' hand enthusiastically.  "I don't know what you did with those fliers I gave you, but the amount of people who've been calling just about tripled."  Louis only smiled because nothing.  Louis had done basically nothing.  He'd just made a quick scan and shrunk the flier down a bit to so that it could be reformatted and printed out as a bookmark.  He'd been slipping them into any books purchased. Louis blinked, somewhat slowly, and looked to Harry's feet.  He was wearing those damn brown boots again, and those same tight black jeans, but this time he was wearing a white tanktop with an American flag on the front (Louis was pretty sure he had borrowed that same exact shirt from Niall before) and a plaid head wrap around his curls.  He looked a bit like a scrubby angel with the damn thing.  Finally, Louis looked to Harry's face.  Nothing spectacular had changed.  In fact, the guy's lips and skin and big green eyes looked exactly the same as the last time Louis had seen him (very nice).   Louis blinked again.

"I'm happy to hear that, mate.  I'm... I'm Louis," pausing only for a moment to think about lying about his name.  It was a stupid idea, he knew that, but.  He was drunk.  "Louis Tomlinson," he added.  And then, belatedly, Louis realized he was still holding Harry's big, warm hand in his own.  He jumped, pulling his hand away and giggling slightly.  Harry only grinned back at him, nodding his curly head towards the bar. 

"What're you drinking?" he asked, voice deep but loud and still unnecessarily slow.  Louis mumbled the truth impatiently (he wasn't sure), and tipped his head towards the dance floor.  "Don't want to drink- want to dance," Louis said, standing up a bit unsteadily.  "Wanna dance with me, Charity Harry?"  He held out his hand again and _God I hope I don't look desperate.  I just.  I like his hands.  I want them on me, kind of._ And then suddenly they were stumbling onto the dance floor and  _yes_ , Harry's hands were resting on Louis' lower back and Louis hands were on the taller boy's hips and they were dancing and laughing to a song that Louis actually recognized, for once.  Louis closed his eyes, smiling a bit as he felt Harry move against him, warm and just steady enough. He was breathing unevenly now, but with clear lungs, like he hadn't in weeks.

After a song or two, though, Louis' head cleared just the slightest and he realized just exactly what he was doing.  He was messing around with himself, dancing like a slut in hopes of shagging this random guy, who's most likely just humoring Louis as a way of saying thanks.  Louis stumbled away, but kept a small smile on his face as he nudged Harry's shoulder with his own, eyebrows raised in the direction of a girl watching them.  Before he could see Harry turn to make his way over to her, he twisted a bit, making eye contact with a small blonde.  Suddenly, she was in front of him and his arms were around her and her lips were-  _oh_. Louis kissed the girl back, slowly and lazily, and he tried not to think too hard about anything at all.

"Hey. Hey," the girl breathed against his mouth, breath slightly sour with what Louis suspected to be gin.  Not that Louis tasted any better, probably. "Let's- let's get out of here, yeah?" And her fingers dug into his biceps.  Her nails were going to leave marks, Louis was sure of it.  In spite of himself, Louis laughed a little bit, pulling back.  A bit eager, this one was.

"I-" Louis fought to keep the smirk off his face, world melting and spinning a tiny bit.  "Well, no, to be honest.  Not tonight, anyways.  I should go."  And then he was pushing his way through the crowd, making his way to where Niall and Zayn were now seated at the bar.  When he reached them, he ignored their hellos and stood on his tiptoes so he could search the top of the crowd.  But Harry, Louis realized, was gone.


	3. I'm Still Breathing, My Heart Must Be Beating Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's a bit short, because i had an allergic reaction today and my fingers swelled up all big and painful. but hey, i eeked out a bit, enjoy a bit o' lilo, friends. as always, absolutely untrue, and very un-beta-ed.

Louis took the next day off from work. His lad Nick was a radio show host, and sure he had bajillions of followers on twitter, but even he wasn't famous enough to not make Louis' Beg List. Louis had called Nick up about an hour after he'd gotten home, still a little bit buzzed and a lot a bit pissed, funnily enough, begging stupidly for a favour. He had promised that if Nick came over to the shop right after his last segment, which just so happened to be ten a.m. on Saturdays, Louis would soon take Nick out to the most lavish of dinners and the most lavish of after parties (some sort of club, Louis supposed would do). Of course, Louis didn't actually plan on holding up his end of the deal, and he and Nick both knew that. Louis just didn't take people out. He was forced into doing things, sure, with his best mates, through threats or guilt trips it didn't matter, but Louis never actually took people out. But all that aside, Nick came through like a fucking mate and promised to open up shop at eleven (two hours later than usual). Obviously, Louis failed to inform Zayn of this little switch-up, but it was alright because he honestly doubted Zayn would really care. He was going to be busy tomorrow, as usual, down at the University College of London's newest shitty little art studio, nowhere near the campus itself, where he taught two shitty little art classes a day (one being one of those weird and kind of prevented classes where peculiar art students opted to sketch old people's flaccid penises and saggy boobs and one about the history and evolution of street art). Louis wasn't worried. And because of his amazing friends and his total lack of worry, he slept soundly throughout the night.

When he woke up the next morning, it was ten o'clock and shining out and Louis rolled off his mattress and onto the floor. He groaned a bit in self pity before crouching and then pulling himself up, grimacing as his body grumbled its protests. And then out of no where, Louis decided he had had enough. He was just plain sick of aching limbs and too-soft bellies and under-appreciated trainers. A bit quickly, before he could talk himself out of it and change his mind, Louis flung open his closet and felt around on the ground blindly for his sneakers. He pulled on a thin pair of joggers and a grey tank top and slipped his shoes on his feet hastily, shuffling into the kitchen to drink a big glass of water and munch on an apple. He was out of the door before the tiny grandfather clock by the door that Niall had bought could even strike ten fifteen. Louis took the stairs two at a time, stumbling down the sidewalk and down a few blocks, until he had reached the park closest to his flat.

It wasn't as big as the one by Zayn's place, and it definitely wasn't as new, but it had paved grey paths running through it and colourful leaves on the trees like the leaves of autumn should be. Starting out slow, Louis began a leisurely jog once he'd reached the main path. Unsurprisingly, his heart was beating just the tiniest bit faster than it would have, say, a year or two ago. It was slightly more exertion, but nothing Louis couldn't handle. He supposed he was just lucky that way, born with a body meant for cardio work outs. Gradually, he quickened his pace until his breathing was just the amount of heavy it should be, and he focused on the _in, out, in, out_ mechanics as air filled and escaped, filled and escaped his lungs. About twenty minutes in, Louis' feet were already starting to hurt and his throat was cold and tight. He kept running, though, passing a few mums with strollers and lads with dogs on too-short leashes. He outran a jogger in front of him, and powered through until he had made an entire lap and around and throughout the park. Louis kept running. When it got to be so bright out that Louis could feel his shoulders warming and crisping slightly, he began to slow his pace until he was walking. It was only then that he realized just how unfit he had become, and how probably unfit he was to being doing such a workout. But that was thing about running for Louis. His mind would go blank of any thoughts other than the ones focusing on his own breathing. Louis could escape the world for a while and feel his muscles working and remember that _hey, if my leg muscles are working, and I'm still breathing, then my heart must be beating too._ It must be working too.

Louis finally found a bench, plopping down on it for a moment to fully catch his breath. He walked slowly through the rest of the park until he finally ended up back at the exit where he had entered. Rather than taking a left and heading back to his flat though, he found his feet (and then the rest of his body) taking a right on to one of the more busy streets. He ambled past store fronts aimlessly, playing with the few bills that he'd tucked away in the deep pockets of his joggers. When he stumbled upon a small bakery, Louis exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and rushed in.

There, standing behind the counter, was Liam. "Liam," Louis said, uncharacteristically brightly. "I didn't know you worked here," he said, making his way up to the counter and bending down to plaster his sweaty face to the glass display case. "One of those, perhaps," he added, jabbing his finger against the glass to point at a pastry. "And a brew, Yorkshire, suppose," he added as an after thought as he straightened back up.

Liam was just watching him, bemused smile on his face and eye brows raised. "You gonna clean that or do you expect me to?" he asked, tilling his head towards the greasy, smudged up glass. Louis only smiled and Liam tuned away from him to set up the brew. "So Niall didn't tell you? That I work here, I mean?" Louis grunted a bit, sliding onto one if the stools near the counter. He pushed the sweaty hair from his face with the whole front of his palm.

"No, no he told me. Just didn't realize it was this specific one, is all." Liam turned back to Louis and handed him a big mug and a big tea pot and well. Certainly a full-on brew if Louis' ever seen one. Liam slid the pastry across the counter too (almond and marzipan of course) and leaned on forward on his elbows.

"Ya look gross," he said mildly.

Louis snorted a bit of tea, coughing as it seared his nasal passages. "I'm rubber, you're glue mate-" Louis paused to take a bite of food and. "Fucking titty shit that's good," he said around a mouthful.

"Eloquent as always," Liam joked, turning back to the register to take a new costumer's order.

Louis ate his food and drank his tea in silence, and when he was done he pushed his mostly emptied dishes closer to the opposite side of the counter and shuffled back over to the register. "Liam, ring me up, will you? I haven't got all day," Louis called towards the back if the kitchen. On queue, Liam pushed through the sliding doors to smirk at Louis, tray balancing delectable smelling biscuits carried on one hand.

"On the house kid," he said swiftly, dropping the tray on the back counter.

"Yeah, no. I'm definitely older than you, Liam Payne the Bakery Boy Slash DJ Man. And second, yeah. No. I don't do freebies," Louis says loudly, making the customers around him look up a bit, brows raised. Louis ignored them, scowling slightly.

Liam only chuckled in response. "You're not the one doing it though are you? I am. Now get the hell out of my bakery, Lou."

Louis scoffed, leaving a hearty tip in the designated jar. "I take no offence to that, Lili, so you're going to have to try a bit harder," he said, turning away to hide his smirk.

"Don't call me that," Liam called after him.

  
Louis ended up going into the shop that day, anyways.  Of course, he'd showered and dressed first, but when he arrived back at the store Nick frowned deeply at Louis and _damn it, Lou, I cancelled my plans, mate.  As in, my hot date with the hot tech guy who works at the studio.  Like, he's right fit._ Damn it, _Lou._  Louis had only brushed past his friend, making his way round the counter and signing onto the computer.  He checked the sales quickly, a bit surprised at the amount of books Nick had managed to sell.  About average, which was impressive for Nick.  Louis pulled a godiva bar from the drawer beneath the computer and handed it to Nick, smirking and patting him on the head, before preforming his weekly rituation.  He stood in a clearing with about a four foot radius, and spun about with his eyes shut and his arms extended.  When he dizzily came to a stop, he dropped his left hand (he'd used it the previous week) and peeked his eyes open, checking to see which shelf he'd chosen.  Fiction.  Steadily, he walked forward with his arm still pointed outwards, stiff as a plank, and made his way over to the shelf.  He pulled the exact book beneath his fingertips off the shelf curiously.   _The Girl Who Chased the Moon_.  He'd chosen a _girl_ book.  Like proper sap shit.  Louis sighed, slipping the book into the loose back poster of his jeans (he'd long since forgone the sinfully tight red and black pants of his late teens).  Don't judge a book by its cover (or title apparently), after all.

He turned back to Nick, smiling anew, and held out his arm.  "How about we close up shop a bit early.  Dinner and a movie maybe?" Louis asked, feeling only a tiny bit dumb.  But Nick just grinned goofily back at him and, well, that was nice too.

Nick hooked his arm through Louis' and announced, "So long as it's not, like, a date or anything."

Louis just snorted and rolled his eyes.   _So long as it's not_ , he thought to himself.

 

 


	4. A Freaking Butterfly On His Tummy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> equally as untrue as the last bits

It took about two or so weeks of being off-beat to spark Niall and Zayn's interest. Louis was sat down on the couch, snuggled under a blanket with nachos on the coffee table and hands beneath the blanket to rub at his sore feet. Niall had paced by every few minutes or so, stealing a crisp with every go and pausing to watch abit of the match on tv, no doubt waiting for Zayn to come home. Louis knew something was up because Niall didn't pace, and certainly not around dinner time. Maybe they wanted for Louis to move out, maybe that's why Niall was obviously up in Louis' space, waiting for Zayn to back him up.  Maybe they were getting married, though.  Louis laughed a bit to himself at the thought of either prospect because, well.  Louis was, afterall, a self-proclaimed drama queen. So he just rolled his eyes repeatedly and wiggled his toes in slight discomfort.  Apparently, a week of morning runs did not, in fact, break sneakers in.  The things fucking hurt.

When the door did finally bang open, Zayn rushed to his boyfriend's side and helped tug off his leather jacket, impatient.  Zayn only huffed, giving the other lad a small pat on the bum, saying, "Yes, yes I missed you more.  Okay, yes I get it, you love me.  Enough, enough."  He smacked a noisy cheek to Niall's temple and dropped his canvas bag by the door.  Exasperated, Zayn piled down on top of Louis with a mumble of hello.

Louis raised his eyebrows.  He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "Alright, that's quite enough, don't take after your boyfriend now.  Gerroff me," he grumbled, shoving the other boy away a bit.  He looked between Zayn and Niall for a moment, lips pressed together.  After a moment, he fumbled a bit for the clicker and shut off the tv, ignoring the looks the others were shooting over his head, no doubt.  "What's up, then?"

Niall only laughed mildly and plopped down on the floor, leaning against Louis' shins. "Don't get all serious on me now, Lou.  I've had enough a' that, honest."  He ate another nacho, spilling a tad on his shirt front.  He dragged his finger across the stain before sucking it into his mouth with a shrug.  Louis scoffed in mock horror.

Zayn just smiled.  "Nothing, we're just.  We're happy right now, you know?"

Louis pulled a face, jokingly reaching for the remote.  Zayn just swatted it out of his hands and pulled his own beanie off his head, plopping it onto Louis'.  "Well, I'm glad to hear that, lads.  But please, do spare me the gory details.  I trust the sex is well enough."  NIall laughed rambunctiously at that, but Zayn just punched Louis' side softly

"Happy for you, dolt," he amended and.  Well that was a bit different, Louis thought.

"How do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, curling in on himself a bit.  He hadn't exactly broken any records lately.  Hadn't even pulled himself a shag in weeks.  He was a bit puzzled.

"Knock it, Lou.  We mean, you've been runnin' up and down them paths at the park like a bloody pro. It's just a welcomed change, is all.  It's good t'a see ya back in action, mate. S'about bloody time," Niall interrupted, head tipped up and resting on Louis' knees to look up into his face.  "Zayn's too afraid to bring in up 'n all, but like.  I've just got me fingers crossed that footie's next to come.  You goddamn fucking gotta, Lou.  You were a right champ if I've ever seen one, probably still are."  Niall blinked and smiled, scratching his head a bit.  He turned slightly to face Zayn, and Louis didn't speak for a moment, watching as the two spoke between quick glances.  Not that he could have spoken if he even wanted to.  He didn't realize him running was, like, a thing now.  Didn't realize other people would notice, let alone comment on it.  See, that was the thing about LouisandZaynandNiall.  Louis never brought up Niall's dropping out of school to play music at bar gigs, Niall never brought up Zayn's slight obsession with physical appearance and what that might say about him, exactly.  And, well, neither Zayn or Niall ever dared to bring up Louis' certain life choices.  Football was one of those life choices.  He sat, stunned, eyes glazing a bit as he got lost in thought, no longer trying to keep up with Zayn and Niall's silent communication.

"We know it sounds bad, Lou.  Like, stupid and all that, but like," Zayn trailed off, running a hand through Louis' hair.  "It's just cool, is all.  And I thought, maybe, that you might want to... I dunno, take a bit of time off the shop?  Not like a proper leave or anything, like I'd ever allow that.  But just, like.  Niall needs something to do, to entertain himself in the morning, and he could use a bit of enrichment of the mind.  I thought he'd maybe take your morning shift, you could take the rest of the afternoons?  That way you'd have time to like proper run and all that."  Zayn took a hesitant breath when he'd finished.  Louis'd never heard the guy say so much in one go.

Louis took a moment, marinating about the idea, dancing around it like a dog round a cat.  He could pounce on it, he really could, but.  Louis didn't much do change.  He inhaled deeply, blinking.  Zayn wanted to get up in his business.  And tell him when he could and couldn't run.  Maybe he didn't want to fucking run (he did).  Maybe he liked working morning shifts (he didn't).  But as much as Louis was expecting the annoyance and resentment to rise in his belly, it didn't.  Zayn was just looking of for him.  Niall, too.  That's how they are, Zayn and Niall, just so fucking thoughtful and caring.  It made Louis love them a bit, but it also made him a tad ill.  Saps.  Finally, after what must have been five whole minutes had passed by in mulling silence, Louis said, "I like the job, Z.  I really do.  And this- this thing going on, this going and running and eating at the bakery and not hating the daylight thing, it's not permanent the way the shop is.  I don't want to give up my morning shifts."  Seeing Zayn's slightly hurt face, Louis amended, "But like.  That's really, amazingly generous of the both of you.  And maybe I'll drop morning shifts a day or two, but like.  I'd really like to keep my job, if that's okay.  I want to continue with the way things are, the way they've always been."

Niall straightened a bit at this, turning slightly.  "But maybe it's sort of time to move on a bit though, innit? I mean, doing the same thing day after day."  Niall shrugged.  "Bit boring.  Just thought you might like a bit more time to yourself, and whether you wanna run or jb or eat like a pig or do absolute shit doesn't matter to me.  Just tryin'a help a brotha out," he said.

Louis maybe chuckled, kind of.  "And I get that.  I do.  And like I said, I will gladly hand over a shift or two, but to be honest I think I can manage my life in and outside of work okay as of right now.  I see what you guys are trying do, and I really appreciate it, but I guess I just need to make this about me being stir crazy.  I don't want a stupid revelation or a life change.  I just want to rid of a bit of extra belly and get my damned knees to stop moaning and groaning. And you're the one that even brought my attention to that, mister," he said, poking Niall's skull none to gently.

Zayn was giving Louis one of those _I can see into your soul right now_ looks, but finally he sighed a bit, huffing.  "Alright, well."  He leaned over Louis to grab the television remote.  "I think two shifts a week sounds like a compromise.  We'll stop harping now," he said, clicking the match back on.  And suddenly, all three boys fell silent as their eyes grew wide and their proud football fan hearts grew a bit in size.

 

All Louis had done was blinked and suddenly he was being rammed to the ground and his limbs were being sent sprawling.  "Oh my- oh no! I'm so- shit- I'm so sorry!" There was a guy standing above him, and the light was hitting him just right so that his whole body glowed.  Louis wished there was less of a shadow so he could see the stupid guys face before decking him one.  Fuck, his elbow hurt.  Slowly, bitterly, he accepted the hand being offered to him, grimacing as the other guy let another string of explicit apologies.  Louis shifted his weight from one foot to the other and no, his ankles were okay.  No real damage there. But his elbow though.  It was bleeding a bit from the nasty scrape.  Louis bit back anger and pain. He cradled it, his lame elbow, in his other hand pathetically before looking up at the boy in front of him.

"Harry," he breathed, swallowing.  Harry was standing before him with the damn near sorriest face Louis had ever seen, just to concerned and apologetic.  Louis felt his eyes drop a bit, to Harry's tan, sweaty stomach.  It had a a butterfly on it.  Like an actual, scribbled-on butterfly, the seemingly most random of all the tattoos scrawled on Harry's damp skin.  And shit, how can Louis possibly still be attracted to this boy after not only being knocked flat on his ass by him, but also after coming to realize he had a freaking butterfly on his tummy.  It didn't matter how sculpted the rest of him was (yes it did), the guy had a _butterfly_ on his tummy.   Louis swallowed again and lowered his gaze a bit more.  Harry was wearing running shorts rolled at the waist and bright green and white trainers.  Louis bit his tongue.

"Louis, oh my god.  I'm like.  So sorry," Harry stuttered, running a hand through his sweaty curls.  He squinted at Louis' elbow, reaching out almost tentatively to run his fingers along the skin there. "How much does it hurt?"

Louis only shook his head, righting himself a bit.  "'M fine, it's okay, really.  Wasn't looking where I was going."

Harry laughed a bit forcefully. "No, Lou, I wasn't looking.  I'm really fucking sorry," he said in a rush.  Louis tried to ignore the nickname that had rolled so easily off Harry's tongue.  He couldn't so he didn't, smiling lightly.

"Honest, Harry, I'm fine."  To prove this, he stretched his elbow out a bit.  It wasn't so bad, not really.  Nothing a little paracetamol couldn't fix up in a jif.  "See?"

Harry visible gulped.  "Here, just.  I work right over there, let me take you in so you can wash the, um, blood off."  He was motioning towards the bakery across the entrance of the park.  Louis laughed a bit, not getting it.

"No you don't, Liam does," he said stupidly, trying to pretend he didn't see the drop of blood that had just fallen from between his fingers to soak into the gravel of the path.

"You know Liam?  He's like, my brother," Harry said, gently tugging Louis to his side.  "C'mon then, now you know I'm not secretly trying to lure you to the pits of my basement."

"Hey!" Louis squeaked.  "You still could be, for all I know.  I barely even know you, Charity Harry."

Harry tugged Louis along like he was a doll of glass.  "Don't flatter yourself, mate, you're not that pretty."

Louis scoffed dramatically.  "Hey, you're the one that almost killed me.  Shouldn't you be trying a bit harder to get me not to hate you, then?"

Louis felt Harry stiffen a bit.  "You hate me, don't you?" he asked softly, voice definitely much more serious than it was a minute ago.  Just the sound of it nearly broke Louis' stupid, cold heart.

"Course not, dumby.  Now take me somewhere I can wash this nastiness off.  I think there's a bit of gravel in there," Louis said absently, referring to his scrape.  Harry nearly whined with guilt and Louis had to sigh.  "And don't you start with me, Charity Harry.  It was an accident.  Take me to the back and wash and doll me up all nice, you'll win me over in no time at all."  He smirked when he felt Harry's bgi hand tighten around his waist a bit more tightly.

"Are you concussed?"

Louis laughed heartily at that.  “No, but my bum hurts quite a lot, if we’re being honest.

Harry smiled a tiny bit.  “A travesty!” he declared.

Louis just smiled back and grabbed Harry’s arm, tripping across the road and ignoring the strange glances the pair got as they burst through the bakery and stumbled to the bathroom.  He hoisted himself up onto the edge of the sick and swung his legs out.  He watched patiently as Harry closed and locked the door behind them. "Whenever you're ready, doctor," Louis said huskily, holding his arm out like a gruesome fucking prize.


	5. Still The Same Old Haphazard Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry i'm updating so late at night, i went bridesmaid-dress-shopping today. also, this chapter was written while i was listening to devils on our side by jukebox the ghost replay so like go listen to it it's sooo rad yo

When Louis showed up to work the next day, keys out and ready in one hand, Harry was sitting on the ground with his back up against the window of the shop.  Louis held his arms out wide as he approached, making a show of bending and unbending his elbow.  "To what do I owe this pleasure, dear Harold?"  Louis fumbled with the key in the lock as Harry shook himself up off the ground.  Unsurprisingly, Harry followed Louis as he entered the shop, close on his heels.  Louis rolled his eyes and bit back a smile, sipping casually from his coffee.

"I got you one, you know?  But I guess I should have assumed you would already have gotten some." Louis turned around and watched as Harry placed two big to-go cups of coffee, presumably, on the counter.  He was grinning all big and dopey, hair falling into his eyes a bit.  Louis felt his heart melt a bit, but he did his best not to show it.  Instead he threw his own, nearly empty cup in the trash and reached for one of the ones Harry had put down.  He took a big gulp and sighed dramatically.

"Can never have too much coffee, babe.  But honestly, what's up?"  Louis knew he was staring a bit too hard at Harry's tight jeans, so he busied himself with turning on the computer and unlocking the register to count the notes inside absently.  Harry hopped up onto the counter, bum a bit too close to Louis for his own liking.  It was extremely distracting, obviously.  Louis pretended not to watch Harry's spine as he leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his thighs, nearly folding in upon himself.

"The walk is this weekend, you know?  And like.  I was wondering.  If you wanted to come, maybe?  Only if you're free," Harry said, rushing his words to the point where he was speaking at a relatively normal speed.  Louis wanted to laugh because  _you are so_ _adorable_  but he bit that back, too.  Instead, he poked one finger into Harry's back, right in the middle of his knobby spine.

"This your way of saying I should repent all my sins and do something good for the world, or something?"  Harry laughed and started to protest, straightening up, but Louis just interrupted him.  "Well, in any case, you'd be right.  Think I can probably pencil you in for a tiny bit, yeah."  

Harry just grinned wildly at that, bouncing his knees up and down excitedly. "Really?"

Louis huffed out a breath.  "Now don't get too eager on me, Harry," he said around his cup of coffee.  He decided it was best not to inform him that he absolutely hated sweet drinks at nine thirty in the morning.  Actually, vanilla bean coffee was shit at any hour, Louis supposed.  But to be polite, he drank the rest of the cup anyways.  At least, that's the reason Louis was telling himself.

"So you'll meet me at the field, then?  I mean, it's only like a block from here.  An hour before the event starts?  We don't even have to walk in it, if you don't want to.  We could just,  like, cheer the people on when they get to the finish line?"  Harry was smiling again, hopping up off the desk and walking absently over to a random shelf.  He ran his knuckles along the spines of the books on the toppest shelf, and Louis tried not to be jealous of the fact that Harry didn't have to stand on tip-toes to do so.  At least Louis didn't have to use a step-stool like some of the smaller customers did (he was about two inches away from it, though).  Harry was mumbling under his breath now, probably reading out the titles, almost as if he'd forgotten he was waiting for Louis to respond.  And Louis didn't much mind leaving things like that, still for a moment, neither of them talking.  He rested his chin in his hand, leaning on the desk as he watched Harry pull book after book of the shelf, examining the front covers with a certain scrutiny that made Louis' eyes crinkle up a bit at the corners.  Harry had such a serious face on, and Louis was almost sure he wouldn't be seeing that again for quite a while.  Harry just didn't really seem like serious type.  In fact, it looked rather childish on him, a serious face.  And if that made Louis' heart warm even more, then so be it. When Harry had seemingly satisfied his fascination, he turned back to Louis with wide eyes a grin.

"You have lots of books, you know that?" he said stupidly, spinning around a bit.  Louis laughed.

"You know what, mate? I'd almost forgotten, but thanks, though.  For reminding me and all," Louis responded. 

Harry bounded over and leaned in close to Louis over the desk.  "I want to work with you today.  Please?" He had pulled out the whole puppy dog trick, eyes wide and gleaming.

Louis raised his eyebrows.  "And why on earth would you want to do that?"  He might have wanted to throw his coffee out when Harry had had his back turned, but he just couldn't. So he made a big production of swigging the rest back, fighting down a grimace, before tossing the empty cup in the trash.  He tried not to notice how Harry's smile had grown just a bit bigger at that.  He stood up, feeling a bit uncomfortable.  He never liked being the one sitting down when someone was standing up and talking to him.  He was short enough, he didn't need people constantly looking down at him.  He made his way around the desk and went over to the door, rotating the 'ouvert/fermé' sign right as his watch beeped ten.

"Because Liam has officially quit his job at the bakery now that he's become a full-time dj, because apparently he is suddenly to good for working hours on end in a stuffy bakery where hungry customers can get surprisingly angry for a whopping minimum wage.  Whatever," he rolled his eyes.  "And I've not been working much lately, not since I started working to get this walk set up.  And, like.  I was bored.  Also, I've come to see how your elbow is."  Harry paused for a moment, scratching his curly head.  "Wait, actually.  Let me rearrange that.  I wanted to check up on you firstly, and also I was bored."  Louis frowned.  "Shit.  No," Harry's cheeks were even pinker now, but he was still smiling wide.  "I take that all back.  Basically, I wanted to see you."

In spite of himself, Louis smiled.  "Always in my heart, Harry.  Anyways, you could man the desk for a bit while I manage stock in the back, maybe?  Basically, be nice to people and if they ask for something you can't help with, just call out for me."  He turned around again, busying himself with nothings to hide his blush.

Harry was quite for a moment. "I can feel you staring at me," Louis mumbled.

"Do you work by yourself here?" Harry asked instead. Louis turned to find him playing with one of the pink fliers on Louis' desk, face unreadable for a second or two.  

"This place is my friend Zayn's.  Actually, it was his my mum's for a couple of years, but then they moved away and his mum held up the rent until Zayn moved back to the city by himself to revive the place.  It used to be an organic ailments store, or some shit, but Zayn likes books, so."  Louis stopped himself then, feeling as if he'd already said to much.  None of that was any of Harry's business, after all.

Harry's eyebrows were knit together.  "Where's Zayn?"

Louis smiled because, well, he quite liked talking about Zayn.  "He teaches some courses at an art studio owned by UCL during most days.  He's got me and his boyfriend employed here, and there's this other guy, Greg, too, but like.  Mostly there's only one person working at a time, yeah.  I mean, the place is pretty cozy, s'not too difficult to manage."  Harry was nodding along like he understood just exactly what Louis was talking about.  He hummed a bit, eyes still glued to Louis, watching him pace.  That just made Louis pace a bit more.

"You're pacing," Harry stated.

"You got me talking about things," Louis responded, because it wasn't like he hadn't already noticed what was happening.  Gradually, so fucking gradually it almost hurt, things were changing.  Louis was going outside more, especially when it was nice out.  He was resenting customers less and less by the day.  And, most importantly, he was socializing with the cutest boy he'd seen in a long time, acting if he was okay when in the end he still went home at night feeling a bit empty because he fucking _wasn't_.  He wasn't okay.  At least, he couldn't be.  Louis'd been so fucking _not okay_ for so fucking long.  Things couldn't really have been changing that much, he couldn't really have been changing that much.   He still _hurt_ , so badly sometimes. He was still grieving and still resenting and _still hurting_.  Louis wondered if Harry could see that, but he supposed he couldn't. Before either of them could say anything more, the door chimes rang and a lithe woman and her roller-skate skinny daughter entered the store with messy, wind-blown hair.  Louis thanked god he'd long since given up on styling his own hair.  Now he didn't worry so much about going out in the crazy weather.  In fact, he almost felt at home among the chaos that wind, rain, or hail ensued  See, that was thing.  Louis was still the same old haphazard mess, and he then realized that he needn't worry so much, because it wasn't if Harry was actually changing that.  It wasn't as if he even  _could_ , not even if he wanted to (and Louis doubted that Harry did).

Louis greeted the customers with significantly less enthusiasm than he would have, say, ten seconds ago.  That was what thinking did to Louis.  It messed him up.  He turned back to Harry, ignoring the frown on his face, and just sort of dragged his feet to the back stock room, head cloudy.  After a few minutes of voices being exchanged, Louis heard the doors chime again, and then things were quiet again.  Louis worked quickly and efficiently  piling the books according to genre, and each individual pile according to the author's last name.  He didn't look up when he he heard footsteps and felt Harry leaning in the doorway.

"Lou, y'alright?"

Louis felt he didn't have much of a choice except to look up, so he did.  "Yeah, m'alright," he said softly.  "How'd things go with those customers?" Louis tried not to look to effected, because maybe he sort of liked the image Harry had of him, and maybe that was okay.  It was okay to want to seem okay, that's what Louis told himself.

Harry just smiled gently.  "Swell, bought two books from the kiddie section and one off the New York Time' Best Seller Table."  Louis nodded, turning back to his work casually.  He felt Harry watching him for a beat or two longer, and then he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye Harry nod once to himself before walking away.

About two hours of working and countless bells chiming, Louis emerged from the stock room, suspicious.  "You haven't called for me," he said quietly, making his way to the desk where Harry was sat.  Harry looked up from the book in his hands,  _Anne Frank's Diary_ Louis read, and glanced at Louis. _  
_

"Haven't wanted to bother you, is all.  If you'd rather me do that stuff, though, I can.  You take your turn in the front."  Harry's voice was gentle, almost unsure, and fuck.  Louis had done that, hadn't he?  He just had to go and fuck things up, be all hot and cold and all over the fucking place.  Harry was watching Louis watching him, and suddenly his eyes went soft.  "Hey, y'alright?  Do you, like, want me to go, or something?  I didn't mean to upset you."  Harry was getting up now, slowly walking over to Louis, and Louis just really wanted to cry.

"Why are you so nice, though?  Like, that's what I don't get," Louis choked out, backing away.  

Harry's eye brows shot up into this curly hair, and he said, "Because I like you, Lou.  Please, just tell me what I did wrong."  Louis didn't stop Harry when he raised a hand to run along the length of Louis' arm gently. "What's so hard to get about that?"  Harry's face was serious, and  _so that was happening again.  That stupid serious face_ , Louis was doing that.  Louis swallowed, forgetting where he was or who might just walk in because suddenly all he could think was  _I like you, Lou_.  He could remember the last time he'd been told that with so much sincerity.  Stan had cupped Louis' jaw, forcing him not to walk away.   _That's why I'm not mad, Lou,_ he had said.   _It's cos I like you, love you even.  It's okay, Louis.  Please don't run away, it's okay._   But things hadn't been okay.  His father had just fucked off and he'd just stopped crying long enough to plant on a snog on his best friend, and he was  _such an ass hole.  Thing's weren't okay._ Stan had been too forgiving, too gentle, and Louis hadn't deserved it.

"Lou," Harry was whispering, and.  His hands were all over him, one Louis' shoulder, the other one grasping his own hand lightly.  "Lou, I'm sorry."  And then Louis was snapping out of it, stumbling away and breathing in deeply.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he was saying, rubbing his arms just to calm himself.  He couldn't face Harry.  He felt a thin layer of warmth wrap around him, he could  _feel_ Harry hovering just behind him, and he sucked in a breath when he felt Harry's arms wrap around him.  But he didn't open his eyes, he couldn't.

"Everything's good, Lou, it's all good," Harry was saying lowly.  Louis nodded, pursing his lips tight for a moment, holding his breath at the stillness.  He counted to three and then pushed away lightly, still not looking at Harry.  He cleared his throat as if that was going to make things go back to normal.

"Too much caffeine, I'm sorry," Louis heard himself muttering as he made his way back to the stock room.

 

"What's up your ass, then?" Niall griped, yanking the bowl of crisps from Louis' pathetic hands.  He popped a few into his mouth, chewing nosily with his mouth opened just the way he knew Louis hated.  Louis ignored Niall, turing the tv up a bit. And, "No, Lou, you're not doing that. Fuck you," Niall said around his mouthful  prying the clicker from Louis' fingers and turning the television on mute.  "Tell me, Lou."

Louis breathed in, out.  He could already feel his resolve crumbling, and he leaned back against Niall dejectedly.  Niall's arms wrapped around Louis' torso as if it was a subconscious act.  Louis supposed that it was, by now.  "I fucked it, Ni, like. A lot," he groaned, blinking up at the white, leak-stained ceiling.

Niall just sighed into Louis' hair, running his fingers along Louis' skin.  "Whaddya mean, fucked it?  What happened," he asked, voice abnormally soft, empathetic even.  Louis nearly groaned again at that.  He was fucking with people, he could just see it in the way people were changing around him.  He hated that, hated having to sit around and watch as the way in which people treated him began to morph.  "You didn't spill all of Zayn's hair wax again, did ya?" he whispered softly.  Louis felt laughter bubble up in side of him despite himself.

"No, I didn't," Louis whispered back, smiling briefly.  "But there's still time for that.  No, I'm talking about Harry, Ni, Harry," he said conspiratorially.

The other boy just nodded, head bumping against Louis' as he hummed a little.  "Charity Harry with the pink fliers who's friends with Liam and has butterfly on his belly?  How'd ya do that, then?"

"I, like, freaked out on him, I guess," Louis said, sighing again because  _drama queen_.  "I made it all weird without even trying to."

Niall didn't say anything for a moment.  Finally, he responded, voice strong and sure, "Then make in un-weird, Lou.  If you like him, and you want to keep him around, then just.  Make it un-weird, Lou.  Open up for once in your sorry life and be yourself.  Trust me, that Louis is the Louis Zayn and I love to death, and I think you and I both know that that Louis knows how to socialize well enough.  Tell this Harry guy you're sorry, and if you can't do that then at least show him, some how.  'M sure you'll figure it out."  And, well. Louis didn't know Niall would be so wise.


	6. Wished They Could Stay Like That, Just Talking and Laughing

Louis woke up Saturday morning with pillow crinkles indented in his cheeks and lips dry as parchment. He blinked up at the ceiling, a small frown on his face, and tried not to think too much. He eventually talked himself into rolling out of bed, and did five pushups on the ground before standing up. He smiled smugly, then, because, well. He was right fit. Five pushups a morning was pretty sick, if Louis was being honest. It was a whole five more than he used to do. He padded to the bathroom on sock-less feet and with his ipod in his hand, and washed up with music docked in and humming through speakers.  He stripped down and took a long shower, and he might have maybe had a wank, so what?  Sue him.  It wasn't like he was thinking about stupid, springy brown curls and glimmering mossy eyes (he was).  Louis took his time drying off, too, and then dressed in light jogging shorts and a think black shirt that Zayn had helped him rip into a tank-top when one of the sleeves had been splashed with bleach.  He ran a hand through his hair, which was, well.  He hadn't cared about his hair in a long while.

When Louis entered the kitchen, Zayn and Niall were already there, eating and talking quietly at the bar.  The whole place smelled of bacon and eggs and  _were those croissants?_  Louis made a beeline for the food, tummy grumbling its requests.  "What're y'all doing up?" he asked as he swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs, turning to the boys.  Zayn just shrugged, motioning to his own mouthful of food.  Niall, however, opened his mouth up real big, making Louis grimace at the colourful array on his tongue.

"Not like we're gonna let you go to this thing alone, right?  Gotta bring the moral support, innit?" Niall said, grinning.

Louis narrowed his eyes.  "You guys really don't have to come.  Go out to lunch or something, honestly, don't worry about me."  He turned away from them, fixing himself a proper Englishman breakfast plate, not too much and not too little.  He wasn't about to go throw up all over Harry's shoes in all of a half an hour.  He made his way over to the bar and nudged his bum up onto the own next to Zayn.  The three just chewed for a moment, thinking.  At least, Zayn was.  Louis, too.  Niall, though... probably not much.

Zayn took a sip of tea and glanced at Louis over the rim of his mug.  "'Course we're gonna go, Lou."  Louis started to protest but Zayn just shook his head once. "If you don't want to talk to us, we'll walk behind you or something."

"Mostly just cos we wanna see you seduce that charity guy," Niall said, laughing.  Zayn shook his head as if his boyfriend was being ridiculous, of course that wasn't why.  Louis suspected it really was, though.

"How can you even participate, though?  Did you even get any sponsors?" Louis asked, eyebrows knit.

Zayn nodded sagely, pulling a paper from the pocket of his joggers.  He unfolded it gently and worked out the wrinkles before handing it to Louis.  "I just posted it in the studio, one for me and one for Niall, and a bunch of my students penned themselves in.  I reckon together we'll make two hundred or so."  Louis frowned, glancing all over the page.  His best friends had obviously put a bit of thought and effort into this.  Louis tried not to let his affection for the two colour his face too brightly.  He bit back a smile, glancing down at his plate.  They were quiet again, and they all finished their food in silence.  Well, Zayn and Louis both finished most, and the Niall cleared off the plates for them ("I'm hungry, jesus.").  Louis helped Zayn clear the dishes while Niall ran back to his room to put more than just briefs on. 

"Uhm, so I was thinking of leaving in like five minutes or so, I figured I'd go bit early to meet up with Harry.  I, um, haven't really spoken to him in a couple of days," Louis' voice was quiet.  "If you, like, wanted to come early with me?" His gratitude was silent but still hung there in the air.  Zayn smiled and bumped his hip against Louis', walking over to the door to pull some trashed look converse on.  Louis nearly laughed.  Even when exercising, Zayn strived to look his best.  He was wearing a black Ramones tee-shirt and stylish gray joggers, and his clunky black glasses framed his big eyes.  His hair was swooped this way and that, framing his face perfectly. Niall came bounding back into the room, dressed in similar fashion to Louis.  He held a small ipod, a pair of headphones, and a disk in one hand, and two snapbacks in the other.  He handed one, the black one, to Louis, and Louis placed in on his head dramatically.  "Thanks," he said, voice a bit softer than he'd intended.   Niall grinned and grabbed at Zayn's hand naggingly, tugging him out the door. 

"C'mon already, Lou," he called loudly, laughing.  Louis just huffed and followed the two out the door  


 

When they got to the field, Zayn and Niall headed over to one of the sign-in booths and Louis stood on tiptoes with squinty eyes, trying to spot Harry among the fifty or sixty people already dispersed throughout the grassy make-shift track a couple of pink and purple cones had created. "Louis?" a voice said from behind him.

Louis spun around, and there Harry was, standing before him in a thin white teeshirt (the B-52's) and black track shorts.  He wore a hat similar to Louis' on his mop of curls, but the bill was facing backwards.  Louis couldn't hold back his grin, so he didn't.  He smiled wide and pulled Harry into a very uncharacteristic hug.  "Hey," he mumbled into the taller boy's shoulder.  "It's okay that I came?" he asked as he pulled away.  

There was a small, pleased smile on Harry's lips.  "I didn't think you would," Harry admitted, fiddling with his hat.  "I sort of thought you were upset with me," he added softly.

Louis frowned, nodding.  "Yeah, I'm sorry about the other day.  I wasn't feeling too well," he lied, finding it hard to maintain eye contact.

"You could have just told me that much," Harry was saying, but Louis grabbed at his hand and started tugging him towards where Zayn and Niall were tossing the frisbee back and forth.  Of course, Zayn's throw was beautiful, but his catching was shit, and Niall's throw was messy and uneven, but he ran and jumped to catch the disk when it was thrown to him, laughing loudly.  Louis grinned again, in spite of himself, dropping Harry's hand to run and snatch at the disk as it flew through the air, intercepting Niall's pass.  Louis turned and tossed the disk to Harry, who blinked once before throwing his arms up to shield his face.  The disk landed about two metres away from him, and Louis laughed as he jogged over to pick it up off the ground.  

"You okay?" he giggled, poking Harry's hip.  Slowly, the other boy lowered his arms and shot Louis a glare.  

"Fucking hate sports," he said, a glint in his eyes betraying his frown.

"Mate, you do realize you've been working to set up a charity  _walk,_ right?  As in, like, exercise and all that."

Harry scoffed, bending sideways to stretch a bit.  "I didn't say I didn't like exercise.  I just hate anything involving throwing or catching or hitting or tackling or whatever.  Running, walking, that I can do."

Before Louis could respond, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.  "Hi, I'm Niall," Niall said, pulling Harry into a giant hug.  Harry gave Louis a curious look over Niall's shoulder, but hugged him back enthusiastically just the same.  Zayn came up from behind the two, gently prying Niall off of Harry.

"And I'm Zayn, this one's-" he motioned towards his boyfriend, "babysitter.  And this one's-" he nodded towards Louis, "boss."  Louis scowled, jumping onto Zayn's back and tackling him onto the ground. Louis caught Harry watching them curiously, a smile on his pink lips.  Louis had forgotten how happy Harry tended to be, how much warmth he radiated, and he watched as Harry plopped down onto the ground next to the two wrestling boys, leaning back on his elbows with legs outstretched in front of him.  Niall sat down next to Harry, and the two started chatting about music as they both leaned in to scroll through Niall's little ipod music library.  Eventually, Louis pulled himself off of Zayn and crawled over to Harry, sitting cross-legged by the other boy's feet.  Harry looked up and smiled wildly, before looking over Louis' shoulder and raising an arm in greeting or to wave someone over, Louis wasn't sure.  He turned around and saw Liam walking towards the group, arms outstretched.

"My boys," Liam greeted, plopping down onto the ground next to Louis.  "I didn't realize you all would be here." 

The five began to chat about this and that, and suddenly a half an hour had gone by and people were starting to file onto the fields, toting water bottles and towels alike.  Louis found himself wishing, for a moment, that they could just stay like that, talking and laughing.  It was a nice feeling, being around people he genuinely enjoyed, and if Harry's glancing at him and smiling periodically had anything to do with it, so be it.  But their conversation was ending naturally anyways, and Louis watched as they all stood up. Begrudgingly, he held out his hands for Harry to tug him up, and might have maybe held on for just a bit longer than strictly necessary after he had balanced himself on his own two feet.  Not that Harry seemed to mind much, anyways.  Louis supposed that was just a thing for Harry, being all smiley and generous and friendly all the time.  Louis sort of wished he could read Harry a bit better, but he was starting to think that the line between Harry being friendly and being, well,  _more_ was just a bit too blurry for Louis to get an accurate idea.  He sighed, letting Harry grab at one of his hands again and tug him over to one of the booths.  Harry explained to the person that Louis was with him, and that the two were going to walk with the rest of the people.  The elderly woman sitting behind the booth had frowned a bit.  "You sure, Haz?  You don't want to help your mum run the water station?"  Harry had just smiled, shaking his head and tugging Louis along.

"Your mum is here?" Louis found himself asking, following closely on Harry's heels.  

Harry turned his face to the side a little bit to look at Louis.  He smiled proudly, nodding.  "Yeah, she started this whole thing," he said, gesturing about the field.  "I think she's right over... there," he added, pointing in the direction of a booth set up across the other side of the field, where Louis supposed was about halfway through the track.  Louis could see the shape of two women standing there, and although he couldn't make out much, he could just see one with long, wavy brown hair, and one with long, wavy blonde hair.  "That other girl, that's my sister, Gemma," Harry said, raising his hands above his head to wave wildly in their direction.  He grinned stupidly when the two women began waving back.  Louis nearly melted at the cuteness.

"Harry," Louis said suddenly.  "How old even are you?"

Harry just laughed.  "Twenty years and four months," he said, grinning.  He squinted a moment before waving at someone again, Zayn and Niall, Louis realized, who were back to play frisbee across the field.  Louis blinked.

"Aren't you going to ask me how old I am?" Louis asked, smiling a bit.

Harry turned back to Louis, eyeing him lazily.  "S'not normally something I really take notice in.  I mean, you look young enough."

Huh.  Louis didn't replay because someone was speaking through the speakers set up on either side of the field.  The event was about to begin.  People began to line up at different spots on the track, some standing before a line spray painted in red onto the grass, others near the purple, yellow, and white lines.  There were volunteers in pink and purple teeshirts standing at each interval, handing out popsicle sticks.  Louis and Harry made their way over to the front line, the white one.  A blonde girl came running over, and Harry enveloped her in a giant hug.  The girl laughed, struggling to pull away.  Harry eventually let her go, and Louis got a good look at her.  Her eyes were brown, but the exact shape as Harry's, and the two bore the same pretty pink lips and pale, smooth skin.  "H, I didn't know you were running?  I thought your ankle was still hurting?"  Harry just smiled and the girl shrugged, turning to Louis. "Hi, I'm Gemma," the girl said, holding out a popsicle stick for Louis to take.

Louis took it with a smile, holding out his hand.  Gemma gave him a funny look, a smile identical to Harry's on her lips, and shook Louis' hand lightly.  "Nice to meet you, I'm Louis," he said, trying his best to seem warm and friendly like Harry.  Louis wondered if all of the... all of Harry's family was like that.  Louis didn't even know Harry's last name, Louis realized.

Gemma just wrinkled her nose cutely and turned back to her brother.  "He's right fit, H, you've done me proud," she whispered loudly, head tilted towards Harry's ear.  Harry cheeks bloomed pink, but he just laughed lightly, nodding and rolling his eyes.  Louis frowned but pretended he hadn't noticed. Gemma laughed.  "Anyways, I should go hand out the rest of these," she said, pulling more popsicle sticks from her pocket.  She bid the two boys fair-well, navigating through the crowd and handing the popsicle sticks to anyone that didn't already have one.

Louis turned to Harry.  "Well, she's lovely," he said lightly.

"Don't even think about it, Louis," Harry laughed.

Louis put a hand to his chest, mock-offended.  "I would never! What kind of man do you take me to be, Harry whose last name I don't even know?"

"Styles," Harry chuckled, right as a whistle rang out.  Suddenly, the crowds starting moving, and Louis belatedly began jogging after Harry.  He caught up quite quickly, but was surprised at Harry's fast pace.

"Why are we running?" Louis asked, already a tiny bit too out of breath to be talking and running at the same time.  "Every one else.  Is jogging," he said, gulping for air.

Harry just shrugged, and said, "My last name. Is Styles," as the two matched paces.

"Tomlinson," Louis said.  "That's my last name."

Harry smiled, and Louis almost tripped on nothing.  Harry's hand shot out, grabbing Louis' arm to keep him upright.  The two kept up their pace, and Louis kept his eyes in front of him for the rest of he run.


	7. When and where? (: x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm posting twice in one day cos i don't have life alright

By the time they'd rounded the finish line at the end of their tenth lap, Harry was tugging Louis away with sweaty hands, leading him over to the refreshments table. Louis realized what he was doing and stopped dead in his tracks, catching his breath. He tried not to notice how fucking good Harry looked like that, all sweaty and smiling and pink from the sun. Louis tried not to deflate, and he knew the best way to come down from a run was to walk, but that meant, well, meeting Harry's _mum._ He tried, he really did, to stand there routed to the ground, but Harry was wiping his brow and trying to grab on to Louis again, and dammit  _Louis was thirsty_.  He groaned internally and leaned forward, kind of hoping Harry would grab his hand.  But for whatever reason (because of sweaty palms and suffocating body heat, Louis told himself), Harry didn't.  When they reached the water station the woman Louis had seen earlier, Harry's mum, grinned wildly and Louis nearly laughed at the resemblance.  Well, he supposed it was no wonder the Styles children were sort of striking.  Not that Louis, like, thought she was fit or anything.  Well, he did, but. Not in the same he thought Harry was, obviously.  The woman made her way around the table, holding out two small water bottles.  Harry grabbed them from her gratefully with a sideways hug, so as not to drench his own mother in sweat, and he tossed one to Louis.  Louis caught it easily, eyes still on the mother and son.  Mrs. Styles was staring up at Harry with her nose wrinkled the way Gemma had. 

They were talking quietly, but Louis was standing off to the side so as not to pry.  He busied himself with drinking his water and glancing around in search of Zayn, Niall, or even Liam.  He suposed they were still going, since Harry and Louis had finished well before most everyone else. When he looked up Harry again, both Styles' were looking at him, and Harry was saying something that made his mum smile grandly.  Harry motioned in Louis' direction, and for a moment he hovered in place before realizing Harry was motioning for him to come over.  "Lou, this is my mum.  Mum, this is Louis," Harry said, grinning around the cap of his water bottle.  Louis most certainly did not watch Harry's throat as he swallowed.  He turned to Harry's mum, hand outstretched.  Before she could shake his hand, though, Louis was pulling away, laughing lightly.

"Actually, better not.  My palms are a bit sweaty," he said.  Louis was pretty that had been a bad move, but so would have been shaking her hand with wet palms.  The woman just laughed, eyes crinkling, and patted Louis lightly on the shoulder. 

"Nice to meet you, Louis.  Can't say I've heard much about you until today, but I promise he spoke of you for honestly hours on end, it was excruciating " she said, voice warm and happy.  Louis turned to Harry, giving him a look, and Harry's cheeks redden prettily.  Louis laughed.

"Here's hoping it was all good things," he said, shuffling his feet a bit.  Louis wasn't exactly the best with parents. And, needless to say, he definitely didn't want to fuck things up with Harry's mom.  "And it's nice to meet you to, Mrs. Styles," he added, as a bit of an afterthought.

She smiled a bit, glancing at Harry almsot curiously. "Actually, Harry goes by his father's last name but I switched back to my maiden after the split.  It's Cox, but you can call me Anne, love," she said, reaching out to squeeze Louis' shoulder again.  Louis blinked, and  _oops._  He wasn't quite sure to say for a moment, and he supposed what he was feeling was embarrassment.  Louis didn't embarrass easily.  In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd falt so nervous around someone before.  See, that was what Harry was doing to him.  He was growing soft.  "Don't worry about it, Louis," she added sweetly, smiling as she glanced between Louis and her son with twinkling eyes.  For a moment Louis wondered if Anne thought they were together.  Gemma seemed to have had a similar attitude.  He wondered why that was.  Unless, of course, Anne was used to her son bringing home boys.  Louis tried not to think too hard about that.  So Louis just nodded, lips pressed together briefly, before he shot Anne another smile and turned to Harry.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, then, Anne. Hey, Haz, I'm going to go see if I can find my idiot friends, I'll text you later" he said, turning to Harry.  He froze for a moment, surprised that the nickname had rolled off his own tongue.  Harry didn't seem to notice though, his face unreadable for a moment.  Louis thought he might have seen hurt flash in his eyes, but a split second later it was gone and Harry was nodding and smiling. 

"Alright," he said.

Louis wasn't sure if it was, though, so he reached out and gave Harry's hand a squeeze right in front of an, because who really gave a damn if she thought they were together?  It was better than her thinking they weren't, Louis supposed.  He gave Harry's hand two quick, reassuring squeezes and winked at Anne before turning to walk away.  "Oh, and Anne, you have a lovely son," he called over his shoulder.  Harry shook his head at Louis, grinning wildly as Louis turned away.  For good measure, he headed over to the holding booth and got his phone back from the woman that was holding onto it for him.  He clicked in his passcode and scrolled through his contacts, glad he and Harry had exchange numbers that day at the bakery, after Harry had dabbed the blood away from Louis' elbow and had bought him a large hot chocolate and a biscuit in an added apology.   _Come over later tonight to celebrate with Z &N and I? _he sent.  About a minute later, as he was weaving his way through the crowd, Louis' phone buzzed once.   _When and where? (: x_

 

About three hours later, showered and dressed and warm and comfy, Louis felt his phone buzz against his thigh.  "Hey, Z, can you let Harry in?" He called, rolling out of bed.  Unwilling to give up the warmth, Louis just wrapped the comforter around himself and padded into the living room just as Harry was toeing off his shoes.  "H," he said, voice affectionate.  Harry looked up and grinned, and Louis stumbled over to give Harry a hug.  Harry laughed into Louis' hair, and the two stood cocooned under the blanket for a moment.  Eventually, Zayn cleared his throat and Louis pulled away a bit regretfully. Harry was smiling widely at Louis as he said, "Hi Zayn."  Louis thought he heard Zayn maybe scoff a little, but Louis just tugged Harry over to the couch and flicked the tv on.  After a moment hesitation, he opened his arms for Harry to cuddle in under the blanket.  Louis was just feeling snuggly, okay?

About ten minutes later, Louis realized his and Harry's feet had somehow entwined together, but he didn't say anything about his and neither did Harry.  They just sat there, sides pressed against each other, watching a stupid re-run that was airing.  Eventually, Niall came home, but to Louis' surprise he had bought Liam back with him (along with a sufficient amount of alcohol for a stupid celebration and couple of boxes of delicious smelling pizza).  Both Louis and Harry straightened up, giving Liam big waves and sharing their greetings.

Liam nodded towards them, smiling.  "'Lo, guys.  Glad to see all's well," he chuckled, following Niall into the kitchen where Zayn was putting dishes away. Eventually, the five boys settled themselves about the room, Niall laying across the armchair and Zayn and Liam sat cross-legged on the carpet.  Of course, Harry and louis were still pressed together underneath the comforter, only taking up about half of the couch due to their close proximity.  The boys had decided to put the pizza on the coffee table, so Louis had had to move his feet, and each boy periodically reached out to grab another slice as they nursed their respective beers.  It took them about twenty minutes to decide on a movie, but eventually Louis and Zayn had begrudgingly agreed to watch Finding Nemo (the other three boys' top picks) so long as they got to watch Love, Actually afterwards.  Harry had scoffed at that because  _of course we will, it's a fucking classic, Lou._

Louis felt his head bobbing about half-way through the movie, and forced himself to get up and get something stronger to drink, just to get himself not to doze off.  He fumbled about the kitchen before deciding upon a scotch and coke.  He made two, incase Harry wanted one, but when he returned back to the movie Harry was lying fully across the length of the couch, a smug smile on his lips.  Louis gasped, horrified, and placed the tumblers down next to the pizza with a mock-scowl.  "Fine," he muttered, frowning away his smile, making to sit on the ground.  Harry had grabbed Louis' wrist, though, pulling him forwards so that he had basically fallen on top of Harry onto the couch.  Without really meaning to, he felt his body melting and pressed his back against Harry's warm torso, and Harry threw the comforter back on top of them with a smirk.  They laid sideways like that for the rest of the movie, and though Louis' arm had damn near fallen asleep within five minutes due to him leaning on it, he hadn't dared move.  

"Lou," Harry muttered, breath warm on Louis' skin. Louis hummed in response.

"Thanks for inviting me," he said softly.  "And for coming today."  Louis felt Harry's hand slip up onto his hip, resting there genly.  Louis didn't move.

"I'm proud of you, Haz," Louis responded quietly.  "Today was amazing."

Harry laughed lightly, nose poking into Louis' hair.

When the movie was over, Zayn and Liam got up to bring the  _real_ alcohol over from the kitchen, and Niall popped Love, Actually into the dvd player.  Harry pushed himself into standing position, therefore dragging Louis' body along with him, so that Louis nearly sat in his lap.  Louis scoffed, scooting off of him, instead boldly pulling Harry half into  _his_ lap.  Louis liked it better that way, he thought.  And based off the look on Harry's face, Louis guessed that Harry did, too.  Zayn raised his eyebrows when he and Liam resurfaced from the kitchen, bearing a handle of vodka, scotcha, and rum, but didn't really say much besides _Cozy, innit?_.  Harry made grabby hands for the scotch, but Louis just slapped the handler away gently and handed Harry one of the scotch and cokes he'd fixed.  Harry looked down at the glass like he hadn't even noticed it was there before, and then he took a long, appreciative swig. Louis laughed, and rather than reaching over Harry to grab at his own, he pried the cup from Harry's fingers and took a sip.  He smiled as the burn trickled down his throat, humming lightly against Harry's neck.  Harry might have shivered a bit at that, and Louis wanted to press his smile against the skin there, on the back of Harry's neck, but Liam and Zayn were plopping back down on the ground and Niall was reaching for Louis' tumbler of scotch and coke and  _now just wasn't the time_.

The movie began, and although it was one of Louis' favourites, he couldn't quite focus, really.  His belly was growing warm as he and Harry finished off the drink they'd been sharing, and Louis shrugged Harry away a bit so that he could lean over the pizza boxes and announce that he wanted to play a game.  "Let's play a game," he said loudly.  Zayn and Liam craned their necks to look up at Louis, confused looks on their faces, but Niall was laughing as he took a swig from the rum.  "Yes, let's!" he agreed.

Louis glanced back at Harry, who was watching him with half-lidded eyes.  "What kind of game?" he said.

Louis grinned, rolling onto the ground and crawling over to Niall so he could grab the handle from his greedy fingers.  Louis took about a shot's worth into his mouth, swishing it around a bit before swallowing. "Gahh," he said, barring his teeth.  Harry followed Louis' suite and rolled off the couch onto the floor, crawling over to sit beside Liam.  Louis tugged Niall down onto the ground with him, and the five arranged themselves into a circle hastily (except for Louis and Harry, and they were enthusiastic enough for the rest of them).  Louis collected the bottles and placed them down in the centre of the group dramatically.  "Knew that, let's play knew that!"

Liam's brows furrowed.  "Dunno what that is, Louis?" he said, just as Harry said, "Are you making shit up again, Lou?"   Louis laughed obnoxiously at the both of them.

"So basically, Zayn and Niall know how to play, why don't they explain?" 

Niall perked up, grinning as he ran a pointer finger along the rim of the vodka glass.  Before Louis' arm could shoot out to grab him, Niall snatched it up and took one long swig.  Louis tried to protest but Niall jsut started to talk over him.  "The idea is, you go around as share a secret.  If the majority of the people in the circle already knew the secret, you gotta take a shot, but if the majority didn't know it pervious, they each gotta take one. So, like, if I were to say that Zayn and I have sex lots, I'd have to then take a shot.  But if i said, like, that sometimes put some of Z's hair wax on my legs to get the hairs to flatten down, then you'd all have to take a shot."

"Gross, Niall, please tell me you don't actually do that," Zayn said, leaning against his boyfriend.  Niall just mimed throwing a key from his lips.  Everyone rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"So!" Louis exclaimed, clapping his hands excitedly.  "I'll go first.  My secret is... I have't shagged anyone in a couple months, which is just.  By god, dunno how I've come this far."  Louis looked around the circle, waiting to see what the consensus was.  Harry and Liam weren't aware of that, and Zayn and Niall were.  "Shit," he said belatedly.  "We're an odd number, there are no majorities."

Everyone was quiet for a moment.  "Wait," Harry said slowly, grabbing the handle of vodka from Niall and taking a sip.  "Why don't we just go around, same idea as before, but like. Whoever knew the secret already doesn't have to take a shot, and whoever didn't _does_ have to take one.  And, of course, the secret-sharer has to drink no matter."  They all blinked.

"Genius!" Louis exclaimed.  "Anyways, give it here," he said, taking the bottle from Harry and handing it to Liam after taking one long gulp.  Liam and Harry both took shots then, Liam coughing a little into the back of his hand. 

The bottle was in Harry's hands.  "Guess I'm next," he said.  He was quiet for a moment, playing with his lower lip between to fingers.  Louis sort of really wanted to smack Harry's hand away at the distraction, but then Harry was saying, "I'm gay," and, well.  Zayn and Niall just laughed ('Who isn't nowadays?' Niall had said), and Liam rolled his eyes playfully, full of the affection only a best friend can have.  Zayn and Niall both took shots.  It was Louis turn to drink, but he was too busy staring at Harry, who was staring back just as intensely, eyebrows raised as if in challenge.  _Does this change things?_ his look said.  Louis just shook his head after a moment, as if to clear all the strange thoats going through his head away, and reached for the vodka.

By the time Louis' head was swimming, he was certain he knew considerably more about Liam and Harry than he had previous, though what exacly he knew he wasn't sure.  His head was swimming, remember?  He found himself taking another swig at the knowledge that Liam was born without a kidney.  Without a kidney!  But then suddenly it was his turn and as he looked down the barrell of the glass he had no idea what to share.  When he looked up, Harry was staring at him with this, like,  _look_ and Louis was frowning because Harry was so  beautiful and Louis was so fucking drunk.

"I want to kiss Harry," he blurted, and. Zayn just snorted, Niall too, and Liam's eyes went wide, but Louis didn't really notice much of that because he  _really wanted to snog Harry_ and Harry was staring at him with glassy eyes like.  Like he wanted to snog Louis, too.

And so Louis sprang forwards, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders and pulling him towards him.  Harry fell somewhat into Louis lap, and Louis leaned in to kiss the words from Harry's lips.  They were drunk, so spectacularly drunk, and Harry's lips were so warm and so soft and he  _was so good.  So good, Harry._  Louis yanked Harry closer, and their teeth banged together painful as Harry pressed his torso to Louis'.  Louis' hands found Harry's waist, and Harry Louis' hair and they were kissing, like.  They were kissing like they meant it and _Louis meant it, he really did_ , and it his head was spinning so fast he had to pull back to catch his breath.  He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Harry moving away.  He breathed in, out, and the air was so still and tense and  _he was so stupid._ He peaked one eye open.  Niall was staring at him, an amused on look on his face.  Zayn just looked bored, and Liam shocked.  Louis blinked slowly, swallowing painfully, before looking at Harry.  Harry was staring back at him, jaw slack, and they sat there for a moment, just looking at each other.  And then, suddenly, they were laughing, doubled over and laughing like they hadn't in years. 

And when Louis woke up the next morning, he couldn't remember more past that.


	8. And The Lines Began To Blur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi yes hello i just thought you guys should know that this chapter is a bit more, let's say mature (smutty), simply because i was getting impatient with the pussy-footing going on between l & h. as always, stupidly untrue and still very un-beta-ed, so. enjoy yo

Sunday was spent in bed, naturally. At least, until about noon, when Louis got a call. "Did you snog me last night?" Harry was asking, before Louis could even sit up.

Louis was quiet for a moment, think pensively. "I suppose so," he replied mildly, unplugging his phone and stumbling into the bathroom.  His mouth tasted of death, and he stumbled over to gargle with the strongest mouth wash he had. He muffled the receiver a bit as he took a piss, waiting for Harry to say something. "Wait," Louis said, putting the phone on the sink counter and clicking it on speaker phone. "Where even are you? There's no way I- we- would've let you go home last night, in the state you were in," he said, frowning even though he knew Harry couldn't see it. He splashed his face with some water and put some toothpaste on his toothbrush because, well, mouthwash just wasn't going to cut it this morning.

"No, I woke up like two hours ago, and I bolted.  I was approximately three billion hours later for work."

"You work on Sundays?"  Louis asked, though he really doubted Harry was calling him up to talk about his job at the bakery.  He heard Harry sigh on the other end.

"Till noon, yes, normally.  Anyways, that's beside the point.  The thing is, Lou," Harry broke off for a moment.

"What?" Louis asked through a frothy mouth.  He glanced up at himself once, quickly, in the mirror, and nearly chocked.  He looked an absolute mess.  And what the fuck was in his hair?  Louis tugged at it, but it was sticking quiet determinedly.  Finally, Louis pulled the thing free.  It was a dried glob of cheese, presumably from last night's pizza.  Louis groaned, tossing the thing in the bin and running a hand through his hair suspiciously, expecting to find other friends squirreled away in there.  He didn't, thankfully.

"Are you brushing your teeth, Louis?"  Harry was asking, and Louis thought he heard a man's voice on the other end.  

"What the fuck did that man just say?" Louis yelped, spitting into the sink.  Harry said something Louis couldn't hear over the water, so he shut it off and sat down on the toilet with his phone in his hand.  "What did he just say?" Louis repeated.

An annoyed sound came through the other end of the call.  "Nothing, Lou, just let me finished what I was saying."

"Are you in the tube right now?  I can hear the trains.  You know, Harry, you really shouldn't make phone calls down there, your service will give out at anytime."  There was a silence, and Louis could just  _feel_ Harry's frown.  Louis sighed.  "Alright, sorry, sorry, what were you saying?"

"Lou, I woke up in your bed.  Did we- like..." Before Harry could finish Louis was saying  _wait wait wait_ and stumbling back into his bathroom.  He inspected the floors and the bin, as well as the one in the bathroom.  He put Harry back on.

"Not from what I can tell, I mean.  Place is devoid of any condoms, and I'll have you know Harry, I am a very hygienic and very responsible guy.  Also, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if we had," he said, voice light to calm Harry down.

"Alright, yeah, okay."  There was a clunking sound as another train rumbled past.  Louis pulled on a fresh pair of checked boxers and a pair of distressed white shorts.  He paced about shirtless for a moment, fingers trailing across his jaw.

"You don't- it doesn't feel like-" Louis stopped, cheeks flaming.

Harry sighed back to him.  "No, Lou, my bum doesn't particularly ache, if that's what you're asking."

Louis nodded.  "Okay, right.  Yeah, see?  All good," he found himself saying.  He decided on some stupid old tee-shirt of Niall's, feeling a bit dejected.  It's not like he  _didn't_ want to fuck Harry.  Maybe last night's Louis was just more sensible than usual.  It was never the best of ideas to sleep around with a friend when wasted.  It tended to complicate things.  (Except for those times with Zayn, before Niall was in the picture, that hadn't much complicated things.  Mostly just because they were both sober, lonely bastards nearly dying of loneliness who completely understood the silent deal that had been stuck between the two of them.)  Back in the present, Harry barked out a bit of laughter, a sound that made Louis' eyes crinkle with his signature Harry Smile.  Louis had to laugh too because, well, they were just sort of a completely ridiculous, weren't they?

"All good," Harry affirmed.  "And since we're all good, I'd really like to see that new movie, that Sandra Bullock one, you know? And I really don't want to go alone," Harry was saying (whining), suggestive smile most likely painting his lips.

Louis moaned like it was the worst proposition he'd ever gotten.  "That is  _the_ worst proposition I have ever gotten," Louis said, just to be a bit of a bitch.  Harry just laughed again.

"I'll pick you up in a half an hour?"

"How do you know I don't already have plans with my significant other?" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air as if Harry was actually standing there in front of him.

Harry fucking giggled, the jerk. "First of all, you and I both know you you're a nasty little bugger of a bachelor, and second, who wakes up from a horrific hangover and makes plans first thing when he wakes up?"  Harry's voice was cheery.

Louis scoffed, "Exactly, Harold, exactly why I should be saying no right now."  He decided not to add that his hangovers were far and few in between and always pretty mild (he was fucking blessed, he knew).

"You probably should, yeah, but you're not," Harry laughed, and then the line went dead.

The rest of the afternoon went by pretty smoothly, and Louis smiled smugly at the lack of awkwardness.  He was a smooth fucker.  And, okay, maybe Harry being the most oblivious and most cheerful person alive might have had something to do with it.  Louis didn't mind either way, but what he did mind was the small little part of him that had wanted to pounce every time Harry's hand had bumped against his as they reached for popcorn at the same time, or when Harry had nearly tripped in the road and Louis had caught him with quick and steady hands.  Of course Louis had a crush on Harry, who wouldn't?

But then the strangest thing happened.  The pair were just moseying around a comic book store when Louis had heard Harry's distinct Barking Seal Laugh, and had looked up to see him lean in just as Nick, Louis' Nick, placed his lips to Harry's ear.  Louis might have maybe slammed down the record he was holding with a bit more force than he would later care to admit, but.  Louis slowed his pace as he made his way up the _indie spotlight_  isle where Harry and Nick were standing and chatting.   _Be casual,_ he told himself.  "Nick?" he asked, subtly scooching in to stand in between the two.  "What are you doing here?"

"You know Nick?" Harry asked, grin big and dopey.  Louis tried not to roll his eyes, impatient.  He nodded.

Nick just tugged at Louis' arm and pulled him into a big hug.  "Fit friend you've got, mate," Nick whispered into Louis' ear.  Louis froze for a moment before pushing Nick away hastily.  Harry remained unaware, just smiling between the two as if he was simply overjoyed that his two friends knew each other.  "I was just telling your friend here, Harry, yes?" Nick said loudly, gesturing to Harry, "that he has fantastic taste in music.  Reckon he'd do swell putting together radio show playlists.  I could alway use another hand."  And then Nick had the audacity to wink at Harry.  Louis nearly growled and reached blindly behind him for Harry's arm.  Harry's hand was suddenly in his own, and Louis was putting on his best hunky dory smile.

"I'm sure he could, and I'm sure you would, but you see, Harry works at a bakery and makes  _the_ best fucking pies you've ever tasted," _shut the fuck up, Louis,_ "and he's gonna be studying loads starting up again in a couple months.  Anyways, he likes to spend his free time with me, if you hand't already noticed," Louis found himself saying, yanking Harry away a bit.  Nick just glanced wildly between the two before his cheeks pinked and suddenly he was doubled over laughing.

"Alright, Lou," he was saying between wheezes, but Louis paid no mind because he was too busying tugging Harry away, until they found themselves outside of the shop.  Harry's eyes were comically wide, and his lips were parted in confusion.

"What just-" Louis cut him off, jumping up to seal Harry's lips with his own, pushing him back up against the window of the shop.  Louis nearly melted when he felt Harry start to kiss him back, hot and wet and urgent.  Louis ran his hands up Harry's chest to cup at his jaw, parting his lips with his tongue.  And then Harry made this tiny, like,  _mewling_ noise into Louis' mouth and the older boy nearly lost it right there on the side of the street.  Harry's hands found Louis' wasted and they kissed like that for a moment, until Louis felt Harry pushing him away lightly, smiling into the kiss as they broke apart.

"Okay," Harry said slowly.  "Alright."  He nodded, curls bouncing.  

A tiny whining sounded in the back of Louis throat, startling him and Harry both.  Louis frowned deeply at Harry's now bright pink lips, definitely more swollen-looking then they were before (if that was even fucking possible, Louis nearly groaned).  So he lunged forwards and kissed Harry again, just the quick press of lips on lips, because for the moment, he could.  Before Harry could say anything else, Louis grabbed at one of his hands again and the two started tripping down the street, laughing like idiots and just too fucking oblivious to notice the stares.  

 

Louis didn't really know where he was leading the two until suddenly they were back at his flat, stumbling out of the shitty elevator and falling through the doorway the second Louis' key had jiggled the lock.  They were laughing, and it was so fucking  _unreal_ for a moment, and Louis had to pull away, holding Harry at arms length for a moment to say, "What the fuck are we doing?"

But Harry just tugged Louis forwards again and this time  _he_ was the one cutting Louis off with those damned lips. "Dunno, Lou," Harry mumbled against Louis, voice all low and gruff.  "But," he kissed Louis hard.  "I really wanna suck you off, can I?" he said, big gangly hands tickling the waistband of Louis' shorts.  Louis nearly died, he really did.

"Oh my god, Harry, wh-" he stopped himself, kissing Harry again, blindly guiding them until they fell back onto the sofa, Harry nearly crushing Louis and quite literally taking his breath away with an elbow to the gut.  Harry didn't seem to notice though, and that was fine by Louis.  As long as they kept kissing, things were okay.  "God, yes.  Harry, yes," Louis found himself nearly moaning, and then Harry was pulling away from him and pushing Louis until he lie on his back across the length of the couch.  Harry's eyes were wide, staring at Louis like he quite literally wanted to eat him (oh  _god_ , Louis thought) and he started to inch his way down, pushing Louis' shirt up a bit so he could kiss the soft skin there.  Louis sort of gasped when Harry yanked Louis' shorts down to his ankles, all the while palming Louis expertly.  Louis watched, neck craned, as Harry tugged Louis out, and then suddenly Harry's curly head was lowering and Louis felt him litter kisses all along the insides of Louis' thighs.  "God, Harry, go," he whined, too fucked to be embarrassed.

Harry just breathed out a laugh against Louis' flesh and suddenly there was this wet warmth enveloping Louis.  He jolted, and Harry choked a little bit at the sudden movement, but continued to run his tongue along the length of Louis' entirety.  "Sorry, sorry," Louis breathed, eyes shut tight.  Harry laughed again, this time right as his mouth was wrapping fully around Louis, and the vibrations sent Louis' head spinning.  "Fucking hell," he choked out.  Harry was moving expertly around him, and Louis nearly wanted to scream because  _what was happening right now?_ When Louis felt Harry's nose brush against his skin, his hips jolted again involuntarily and he felt himself hit the back off Harry's throat.  This time, Harry barely even reacted, just...  _taking it_.  And suddenly Harry was looking up at Louis through heavy lids and long lashes, and then Louis was choking out, "Harry, 'm gonna," and Harry was nodding slightly, freezing just long enough to swallow Louis down one last time. Louis thought he might have seen stars for a moment, but that could have just been the lighting, and he felt body convulse once more before going slack, breathing heavily.

After a moment, Louis felt Harry stir against him, and watched as Harry slowly pulled Louis' pants back on, working patiently with the zipper like he hadn't a care in the world.  "Harry," Louis breathed.  Harry looked up at Louis, eyes a bit watery and a small smile on his face, and he crawled back up to fit his head in the pocket between Louis' shoulder and his neck   Harry kissed the skin there, chuckling.  "God.  Now you," Louis said, starting to shift, but Harry's hand found Louis' and stopped him right before Louis could reach Harry's jeans.  Harry lifted his head and smiled, shaking his head slightly.

"I'm okay," he said, and. Fuck. His voice was like gravel, all sexed-out and shredded.  Louis nearly cried.  Harry smiled widely before plopping back down on top of him.  And they lay like that for a moment, before Louis came to his senses and poked Harry in the side, rolling away a bit.  

"I'm hungry," Louis said to Harry, because Louis always was one to ruin any perfectly good moment.  But Harry just let out one of his signature seal laughs and wrinkled his nose.

"Let's get a chinese," Harry nodded, grinning.

 

And so that became a thing, Louis supposed.  Some days they'd just sit around and cuddle and make fun of Zayn or Niall or Liam, and other days they'd find themselves free-falling down onto Louis' mattress, rolling about until one of them finally won and landed on top.  Sometimes Harry'd suck Louis off lazily, and other times Louis would push him away urgently, reaching down to wrap his hand around Harry just to see the sounds he could inflict.  Louis especially liked the sounds Harry made, if he was being honest.  But.  Enough of that.  Point was, that this  _thing_ they had had became even more of a thing over time, until the line between mates and  _more_ had blurred just in the way Louis had once predicted it would with Harry.  Of course, Louis didn't much mind that bit.


	9. I Swear I'd Never Let Anything Hurt You

At some point ZaynandNiall pulled Louis aside though, and demanded to know what is going on. See, Louis almost never brought people home, let alone the same person for weeks on end. Louis didn't do relationships, was the thing. He hadn't just gotten out of the shower and was laying all snuggled up and naked under his bedspread.  Louis tended to do that a lot, just waiting around naked while he decided on something to do to occupy his time.  He quiet liked laying in bed because he'd gotten quite good at just simply not thinking.  It felt nice, if Louis was being honest with himself, nice to just lay with his mind blank, and he hoped that one day he would reach the point when his mind wouldn't just be empty but at peace.  Of course, empty suited Louis just fine, but.  When he heard his door creak open, he didn't have to look up to know there was about to be an onslaught occurring   Okay, maybe he was a bit dramatic in the mornings, but that was allowed, surely. He didn't open his eyes, but he knew that they knew he wasn't asleep, and he didn't flinch away when he felt two bodies plop down, one on either side of him.  He felt Niall curl into is side and Louis nearly shoved him away, but it probably wasn't necessary. "Hi, Lou," Niall said into Louis' side.  Louis chuckled, resigned.

"Hi, Niall," he said, not moving.  "I'm naked, did you know?" But Niall was still crawling under the covers and slotting himself against Louis again and this time Louis  _did_ shove him away.  Niall snickered.  "Have at it," Louis said, turning to face Zayn.  He was propped up on one elbow, laying on his side and just looking down at Louis and Niall if they were his favourite people on Earth, the sap.  Louis almost groaned, but settled for rolling his eyes.

"This thing with Harry," Zayn began.

Louis laughed.  "How did I know that was coming?" he said, rubbing a hand across his face.  He figured such a discussion was inevitable, but that didn't mean he was about to jump for joy at the prospect of talking about his...  _mate_ , Louis supposed the word was.  Just a mate, he thought.  Zayn raised his eyebrows, and Louis might have maybe said that out loud, actually.

"Right, Tommo, just a mate you bone occasionally.  Or, well, more often than occasionally.  But yeah, Lou, just a friend," Niall was saying, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.  Louis rolled his eyes, sitting up to lean back on his elbows.

"Let it be, alright?  It's not like I can comprehend any more of the situation than you can," Louis grumbled.

"Uh, Lou, we're not the ones shagging him," Zayn said mildly, blinking like an owl behind his glasses.

"That's right, cos we're too busy shagging each other," Niall added, snickering.  Louis punched him in the gut.

"Right, well.  I don't know what to tell you.  But what I do know is I have a- an occasion to get to and I'd rather not keep him waiting."  And with that, Louis rolled over Niall and padded over to his wardrobe, pulling on random clothing.  He scoffed at Niall's whistle ( _you_ _imbecile_ ) and left his mates on his bed.  Later, he'd realize that was probably a poor decision, but Louis never was good at decision-making.  He slipped on his old converse shoes and grabbed his keys swiftly from the bowl on his way out.  It was time to spend the day with Harry.

And so he did just that.  He spent the day following Harry as they made their way around Harry's favourite museum, Louis  _ooohing_ and _aaahing_ every time Harry bounced on his heals a bit, reaching out to point at this and that.  Louis learned that Harry liked the classic stuff, but also the weird modern stuff Louis thought to be crap.  Louis couldn't help it, by the fourth painting Harry was eagerly pointing out, Louis had let out a squeak and shook his head.  "No, Harry, that is red paint spilled on a canvas and a slice of suspiciously real looking white lunch bread pasted in the center of it all," Louis had said, frowning deeply.  "I honestly don't see how that's art."

Harry had just laughed, shaking his curly hair.  "Alright, Lou," he had said, probably humouring him.  Louis didn't much mind though, because what did he know about art, really?  "I see where you're coming from."

Louis insisted they go to a different museum after that, the Science Museum, which was a little bit out of the way but also Louis favourite place in all of London.  Harry, of course, agreed like the generous guy that he was, and allowed Louis tug on his hand.  His eyes even crinkled at the corners when Louis would pull him close and whisper something stupid in his ear ( _Don't look now, Harry, no I said don't look.  Yeah, so there's this dinosaur and I'm pretty sure he's staring right at me.  Have I got something on my face?_ or _Look at that kid, Harry, he just touched those whales bones and was let off with only a fucking tongue lashing.  Why can't I be a kid, Harry?  I'd like to touch those whale bones_ ).  Harry even sat on that stupid plastic bench because Louis was too afraid to, laying on his back calmly as the nails rose up the bench out of the tiny holes poked into .  Louis had nearly shrieked. ( _Harry, you're laying on a fucking bed of nails, are you bleeding? What hurts?_ to which Harry had replied  _Shh, Lou, I'm fine, people are staring!_ though the look on his face kind of made it seem like Harry didn't actually really care all that much if people were looking.  That made Louis beam, pressing the botton firmly so that the nails began to lower again).  Louis was fascinated no matter which way they turned, and Harry had even grabbed at Louis's hand during the artificial lightning show.

By the end of the afternoon Louis felt all warm inside, and he even let Harry pick the movie.  It was some dumb chick flick, naturally, and Louis nearly leaned over Harry to ask the woman sitting next to him if she happened to have a metal fork squared away somewhere in the giant ass purse of hers so that Louis poke his eyes out.  But he held himself back because Harry was grinning like a maniac and laughing at things that weren't even funny because  _that was just who Harry was_.  And so Louis spent the second half of the film just looking at Harry, watching as the colours from the screen reflected back in his eyes, and trying to memorize the way Harry's dimples would appear whenever that one actress said something.  At some point, Harry had glanced over and caught Louis' eyes, giving him a curious look, but then everyone in the theatre was laughing and Harry frowned, turning back to the screen to try and figure out what he'd missed.

When the film ended, the two waited until almost everyone else had filed out of the theatre before getting up themselves.  They walked leisurely past the arcade and Harry insisted upon taking photos in a photo booth near the cinema's entrance.  In the first photo, Harry had stuck out his tongue and Louis had smiled all big and cheesy, and in the next they both puffed out their cheeks and crossed their eyes.  The third photo, they were kind of looking at each other, smirking stupidly, and in the fourth they were kissing lazily as if they had forgotten where they were and what they were doing.  Harry had pocketed the photo strip after giving Louis only a tiny glance, smiling as he fit it into his wallet.   _For safekeeping_ , he had said.  Louis didn't fight him on it.

They walked out of the cinema with their shoulders and hands bumping together.  Neither boy reached out to the other one though, Louis because he wasn't sure now was the time, and also because he didn't really feel now needed to be the time, and Harry probably because he was too busy smiling widely, most likely still thinking about the film.  It was dark out, and a bit chilly, so Louis wasn't surprised when Harry walked a bit closer.  Their hands were nearly touching, now.  They walked slowly, just kind of wandering until they found themselves back at the park where they had first run into each other all those weeks ago (besides the time Harry had come into the shop with those damned hand-printed fliers).  Louis felt himself smiling a bit, but made no efforts to wipe it away.  He supposed now was an appropriate time to be smiling.  Things were... they were nice.  Louis felt nice.  They didn't actual enter the park, just stood there looking in, hands nearly touching.  

When they turned to walk away though, Louis heard a man say from behind them, "Hey what's a nice pretty boy like you doing out here at an hour like this?  Who you with, love?"  Louis felt his shoulders stiffen, and he turned around slowly even though Harry was whispering in his ear  _Don't Lou, just keep walking_.  There was a guy standing behind them, stood leaning up a tree with his round belly protruding from underneath his black tee shirt.  They guy obviously hadn't showered in quite some time, and strong whiffs of booze were wafting from his direction.  There was this hot slimy feeling working its way up Louis' throat when he realized the man was staring right at Harry. 

"Excuse me?" Louis said, voice tight.

The man glanced at Louis, stumbling forwards a little bit to come out from underneath the shadows.  The street light hit him in the worst possible way, and Louis nearly gagged.  The guy had the most disgusting look on his face, it was all Louis could do not to just deck him one right there.  "I was talking to the other one, you there," the guy said, pointing a crooked finger at Harry.  Louis felt Harry grab at his upper arm, digging his fingers in, as if to say  _come on, Lou, let's go_.  And they should of, they really should have, Louis knew, but he just.  He just couldn't.  "You're real pretty, darling.  You got a lover, then?" the guy slurred, a disgusting smile on his face.

Louis nearly growled.  "Whoa, there.  The guys taken, alright?" Louis found himself asking.  Why he didn't just turn away, he couldn't say.

The man spit out a laugh.  "Defending your ickle pansy boy's honour now, are we?" he snarled.

"You nasty fuck-" Louis started to say, but then Harry was pulling on Louis arm and interrupting with a whisper, "Lou, let's  _go_."

"Getting your boyfriend to defend you, love?" the man was saying now, yellowed teeth glinting in the light.  Louis wanted to throw up.

Harry yanked hard on Louis this time, and Louis nearly stumbled backwards.  "Damn straight, I am.  I know my boyfriend, I know he will not hesitate to kick your fucking ass," Harry said, voice firm.  Before Louis could even process what Harry had just said, let alone reply, Harry was pulling them away, walking fast and determinedly as the man shouted after them.  

 

They walked the rest of the way to Louis' flat in silence, Louis's mind still reeling and Harry's face stoney.  They rode the elevator in a similar fashion, Louis opening up his mouth to say something but then promptly closing it at the look on Harry's face.  Louis' hands shook so hard trying to unlock the door that Harry had yanked the keys none to gently from his hands to unlock the door himself. 

When they entered the apartment, Harry went straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water from the sink. The muscles in his back were visible through his jumper, all sharp and tight.  "Look, Harry, I'm sorry," Louis said, voice quiet.  Harry whirled around at that, slamming his glass down onto the counter so that water splashed out and spilled off the counter and onto the floor.  Louis jumped, startled at the fiery look in Harry's eyes.

"You got to be fucking kidding me, Louis.  Why the  _fuck_ did you just do that?  Couldn't you have just let it be?" Harry shouted.  Louis reflexively shrunk away until his back hit the refrigerator   He'd never heard Harry swear like this before, and he certainly never heard him raise his voice.  Not ever.  Louis shook his head, blinking his blurry eyes until they were clear again.

"Harry-"

"No, Lou, no," Harry said, walking closer to Louis until his arms were raising and pinning Louis in place, hands on either side of his face.  "The guy could have had a knife on him, for chrissake," Harry's voice will still loud and gruff, still in Louis' face.

Louis' knees threatned to give, and he shook his head back and forth again.  "Harry, I would never have let him hurt you," Louis said, voice quite and firm and maybe wavering a tiny bit. "I swear I'd never let anything hurt you," he breathed.

Something flashed in Harry's eyes, and suddenly he was pulling away and tripping on his own feet, stumbling back over to the sink.  They stood like that for a moment, watching each other with wild eyes from across the room, arms folded in front of themselves.  " _Louis_ ," Harry said finally, voice breaking.  Louis nearly broke down himself at the sound, but willed himself not to move.  " _You_ could have gotten hurt.  You can't just-" Harry broke off, rubbing his face on the back of arm.  He inhaled deeply before continuing, "You can't just, like, do that, Louis.  You can't, like, _put yourself in danger_.  Not for me," he said, shaking his curly head.

A whimper sounded in the back of Louis' throat and he rushed to Harry's side, running his hands all along every inch of the other boy.  Finally, he pulled Harry into a hug, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and tugging him closer.  "I'm sorry," Louis whispered, voice against the shell of Harry's ear.  Harry shuddered against him, squeezing tighter. Louis pulled away long enough to lean in and tug Harry's head down, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him gently.  Harry clung with both fists to the front of Louis' shirt, kissing back with a level of passion, of just like raw emotion, that Louis had never felt before.  Louis' hands found Harry's hips and he led them blindly to the bedroom.  They tripped over clothes and Louis went falling, pulling Harry down with him so that he fell painfully on top of Louis, hovering above him.  Louis kissed Harry hard, trying to pour all of his thoughts and feelings and his pounding chest into that one simple action, as if it'd be enough for Harry to see just how much Louis cared.   He supposed actions would have to be enough.

Louis rolled on top of Harry, yanking off the other boys shirt before taking off his own, and he fumbled with the buttons of Harry's jeans, hands unsteady.  Harry was breathing hard now, staring up at Louis with a slightly different look in his eyes than Louis was used to, and so Louis rid Harry of the rest of his clothes and was climbing down his body before Harry could open up his mouth to speak.  Louis had given plenty of blow jobs in his life, sure, and a few of them were even to Harry.  But things were different now than they ever really had been before, his whole entire mind, body, spirit screamed so.  He kissed Harry all over, his knobby ankles and the backs off his knees and the insides of his thighs and the hollows by his hip bones.  Louis kissed everywhere he could as if there was nothing more he had ever wanted to do, because in that instant there wasn't.  He wasn't quite sure what was happening to him on the inside, but he didn't stop to think about it because Harry was right here beneath him, writhing and squirming around, breathing  _Lou, god. Lou, oh my god_ and Louis was fitting his mouth around him.  

Within minutes, Harry's hips were shuttering and his hands were winding in Louis' Harry and he was pulling Louis off of him.  Louis let Harry tug him back up and kiss him all warm and wet and lovely.  "Lou," Harry breathed against his lips.  "I want- god, Louis, I want you.  Can I- can we?" Harry was looking at Louis with these heavy-lidded, dazzling eyes and Louis supposed he really didn't have much of a chance anymore.  He was so far gone, it was incredible, really.

"I- god, yes, okay," Louis was saying, rolling away slightly.  They hadn't actually done this before, gone so far so fast.  It was new for Louis and Harry, and the thought made Louis' head swim. He fumbled around in the little wooden box next to the head of the mattress, hands shaking so much he was afraid that he wouldn't even be able to get a firm grip on the things.  Finally, he turned back to Harry and shuddered, crawling over to let Harry snuggle up against him.   _Go_ , Harry was whispering.  Louis spilled some of the lube onto his fingers, breathing heavily, and reached down to run one finger along Harry's skin.  Harry choked out an  _oh_ , writhing around when Louis got one finger in.  Another came soon after, and suddenly Harry's hips were moving and he was lowering himself down onto Louis' hand.  

"I- more," Harry said, eyes clenched shut.  Louis let out a breathe.  "Want you, now," Harry said, fingers gripping the sheets and knuckles white.

Louis turned away and rolled the condom onto himself, spilling out a bit more lube than he'd meant to.  Both he and Harry let out these tiny, breathy little laughs, and then Louis was on top of Harry and pressing their foreheads together, his lips ghosts against Harry's.  He felt Harry reach one hand down and suddenly he was guiding Louis, yelping.  This time it was Louis who clenched his eyes shut tight, jaw tight.  "Harry," Louis breathed, running one hand up along Harry's side.  "Y-alright?"

Harry nodded, eyes wide and pleading.  "Move," he said, voice wrecked.  Louis felt his eyes bug a bit, and his hips began to snap.  Louis nearly gasped, fitting his mouth on Harry's.  They moved like that, Harry's hips shuttering and rotating a bit and Louis' moving unsteadily but firmly.  Harry was letting out these tiny little gasp-like breathes and his eyes were fluttering and Louis had to be going crazy.  "So beautiful, god," he muttered against Harry's lips.

Harry breathed unevenly and moaned a bit when one of his legs tilted to the side.  Louis reached down, grabbing at Harry's legs and tugging it up so it bent at the knee.  Harry screwed his eyes shut, mouth falling open, and, "Oh my god, fucking oh my god," he was saying.  Louis tried to recreate the angle again, wanting to see the look on Harry's face, hear the sounds escaping his lips.  He nearly just about cried when Harry wrapped on arm around Louis' waste, hand reaching down to grab at his bum.

"Lou, I-" Harry sort of squeaked.  "I called you my boyfriend," he said, still moving beneath Louis.  Louis' hips stuttered a bit, and he nearly froze.  Harry look up at Louis with big eyes and suddenly Louis was laughing, or at least huffing out spastic little breaths with this stupid grin on his face.

"Only you," deep breath, "would bring that up," deep breathe, "at a time like now," Louis said, kissing Harry's forehead and bending just right to make Harry moan beneath him.  "Now," he said, voice tight.  "What do you want me to do about that?"

Harry was shaking, both hands now wrapped around Louis and searching, trying to find any unexplored skin to scratch at with blunt nails.  "Are you," he gasped.  "My boyfriend?"  He gasped again, lifting his other knee up.  Louis reached one hand up to run his fingers along the length of Harry's jaw.  He kissed the skin there, below Harry's ear.

"You want to have that. Conversation right now?" Louis groaned, whole body jolting tight.

"Oh my g- yes, oh my god, Lou," Harry groaned, just as Louis snapped his hips with a bit more force.  "I'm gonna-"

Louis nearly chocked.  "Yeah, me too," he said, and then suddenly Harry's fingers were digging into the flesh of Louis' back, whole body going tight.  A light flashed in Harry's eyes and then Louis was coming to the sight of that wrecked look on Harry's face, crying out and burying his face in Harry's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a moment, both shaking.  When Louis had regained his breathed, he pulled out of Harry, watching the way his face jolted at the loss, and rolled over to slip the condom off and tie it at the end, expertly making the bin with a perfect toss.  He turned back to see Harry staring at him with that stupid look on his face again, and Louis melted into his side.  "I am if you are," he said, licking a stripe up Harry's chest.

Harry just giggled, wiggling away from Louis' tongue.  "What?" he asked, voice deep but light.

"Your boyfriend," Louis said, grabbing at Harry's waist and pulling the younger boy back to him.  Their legs tangled together and Louis placed his head right above Harry's heart.  He listened to the erratic beat for a moment, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I think I am.  I'd like to be, at least," Harry said, running a hand through Louis' hair.  Louis just hummed against him, drawing a heart around Harry's nipple with his pointer finger.  He grinned saying _sounds like a plan_.  Harry laughed, and Louis made his way to the bathroom to wet a cloth.


	10. Two Boys, A Truck, And A Happy Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> deliberately made this a short one, kind of like a closure sort of thing, ya feel? anyways, h&l are happy as hell and i am very happy for and proud of them, so i guess now's the time to say goodbye to their lovely little world, for now. always in my heart .x

In the end, it only took a couple of weeks of begging for Louis to give in. Ever since Harry had gone back to school, Louis had been showing up to work more often and then picking Harry up after his afternoon classes in Zayn's shitty little Honda. And every day, Harry would hop in with the biggest smile on his face, talking about his most recent lecture or about how Professor Ludgate was just _so lovely_ and how she had _the nicest voice for giving lectures_.  He'd wait until Louis was just hopeful enough that Harry wasn't going to bring it up, but then Harry'd ask if Louis'd spoken to his mum yet.  There was just something about Harry and him wanting to fix things all the damn time, it was just so incredibly endearing that Louis didn't have the heart to get mad.

"You know, Lou," Harry had said one day, a smile in his voice.  "I'd love to meet the girls."

Louis had looked up from behind his books, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, and frowned.  "You would?"

Harry had nodded, bouncing his knee up and down as he sat on the bar in the kitchen.  "In fact, I won't rest until you agree to take me to see them."  Louis had gotten this warm feeling, then, that spread all about his body and he had cuddled Harry's legs affectionately.  (Then Niall had walked in on them petting heavily and had squawked, startling the two out of their minds).

It was because of these requests becoming a constant, nagging thing, that Louis had eventually thrown his hands up in the air, saying _alright, alright, I'll make a date_. Louis did end up making a date, as promised, and he was actually pretty nervous to propose the idea to Harry, but when he had finally spit it out Harry had lunged at him, wrapping his arms and legs around Louis like some damned spider monkey, and cooed, "I'd love to go home with you from Christmas." And so that was how it was decided that Harry and Louis would both be going to Doncaster for the Christmas hols.  Louis was nervous as hell, naturally, in the weeks just before Christmas time, but Harry was just  _"superbly overjoyed, Lou, I'm so excited."_ And Louis thought that was kind of nice, that feeling of having someone there to lift up your spirits and keep you positive.  Louis wasn't sure he was quite used to it yet, but he liked to think there was still time for that.  He liked to think he and Harry still had time for that.

The day before they were set to go, Zayn told Louis he had decided he didn't want Louis driving his stupid old car down.  Louis was crushed, but had said,  _of course, yeah, that's ok_ , and had made a move to get up and go look at train times and fairs on his laptop.  Niall had grabbed at his wrist though, stopping him from leaving the couch, and had pulled a small giftbag out of his pocket.  Louis had taken it slowly, very confused, and had dropped the bag as if it'd burned him after he'd peaked inside.  It was used, Zayn had assured him, so it wasn't as if it had cost them a fortune, and Niall had added that they'd been saving up to give Louis a rocking Birthday Slash Christmas present for a while now anyways.  Louis thought it was pretty fucking rocking, yeah, and had bypassed the lift and taken the stairs two at a time, running to the garage to admire his new (well, not technically new) truck. He had fallen in love with it upon one single glance, and Harry had surprised him by jumping up from the bed, laughing.  Louis had nearly had a heart attack, he really had, but he thought that might have been the moment he fell in love a second time.  Well, no, not really.  He had fallen in love with Harry long before he'd thought about driving down to Doncaster, let alone in his own ( _own!_ ) truck, but he supposed it had just sort of been a second wind, a second wave, and he had hopped up onto the bed of the truck and tackled Harry to the ground, kissing him all over.  ( _Dude,_ we're  _the ones who bought you the damn thing,_ Louis could remember hearing Niall say, but he had just raised an arm and flipped him the bird, hoping it was visible over the walls of the truck bed). _  
_

Louis and Harry drove all the way to Cheshire with the windows down, blasting cold air about them, but they had thought ahead and had wrapped themselves in jumpers and scarves and blankets, too. They sung along to the radio the whole way, periodically glancing at each other and blushing and laughing.  When Louis had informed Harry they were pulling onto his street, Harry had pointed at every house yelling "It's that one, it's gotta be!" into the frigid winter air.  Louis just so happen to have pulled into the only house Harry hadn't pointed to, and he wasn't quite sure if the was a good sign or a bad sign.  Either way, he laughed at Harry's stunned face and kissed his freezing cheek.  There came a crash from inside the house, so loud it could be heard from inside a car at least ten metres away from the walls of the place, and Harry's eyes went wide.  Louis laughed happily, muttering a quickly, "Love you, Haz," before a rush of girls spilled out of the house.

Well, it was really only three girls (Lottie was standing and waiting in the open door way, holding a big fluffy cat Louis didn't recognize in her arms and smiling in spite of herself).  Louis opened the door to his truck and was nearly yanked out by a pair of arms.  He had lifted Daisy up onto one hip, patting the other girls heads, and had walked all the way around the truck with a girl in his arms and two close on his heels to open up Harry's door for him.  Before Harry could even say one single word, he too was yanked from the cab of the truck, and was tackled to the ground.  He lay there for a moment stunned, curly head in the snow and bum on the cold driveway, Phoebe sitting on his chest.   _Hello,_ she had said brightly.   _Hello_ , he had responding back with a grin.  And then Jay was in the doorway, calling  _Girl, girls, leave them be!  Do you all want to catch your deaths?! Dear me, Harry'll get pneumonia you buggers, leave him be!  Diasy, don't pinch Louis' ears, Phoebe, get off of Harry this instant, Fiz, be a good girl and come inside, yes?  Hello, Louis darling!  Hurry in, hurry in, don't want to catch a cold, do we?  Hello, Harry! Lovely to finally meet you, Harry!_

There was a buzz of excitement going on around them, girls speaking a mile a minute and tugging and pulling and _yanking_ , really, but Louis still caught Harry's eye long enough to see that Harry was, in fact, okay.  Indeed, he looked better than okay, maybe a small bit overwhelmed but also really just very happy.  And of course, that made Louis really just very happy, too. They made heart eyes at each other while gathering their bags from the trunk, and everyone nearly _aww_ ed when they exchanged a quick kiss before bravely making their way up the slippery driveway and into the warm Tomlinson home ( _Love you more, Lou, like so fucking much,_ Harry had whispered into Louis' ear, right as he unhooked the tether and pulled the waterproof sheet off of their bags.   _Agree to say it's evenly distributed, then, how about that?_ Louis had responded). Jay grabbed onto her son real tight the moment he stepped over the threshold, and Louis had yelped but hugged her back just the same. He watched over his mum's shoulder as Harry grinned at Lottie and rolled his eyes in Louis and Jay's direction.  Lottie squinted at him for a brief second, pushing her blonde hair back, before deciding on something with a firm head nod.  She winked back at Harry and turned on her heels, disappearing around a corner. "Welcome home, Louis," she called, probably in the kitchen already. Phoebe was tugging at one of Harry's hands, introducing herself grandly, and Louis pulled away from his mum to smooth some of Phoebe's hair back and nudge her away.  He nearly laughed out loud when he saw the look on Harry's face.

"It's busy around here, isn't it?" Harry asked, turning to Jay.  He smiled widely and held out his hand.  "Hi, 'm Harry, it's really lovely to meet you.  Thank you for having me-"  But Jay was pulling Harry into a hug before he could even finish talking.

Louis supposed he wasn't meant to hear, but he did.  Mum never was good at whispering (that's probably where Louis got it from, he thought).  "Lovely to meet you, Harry.  Thank you for making my baby so happy, and thank you for bringing him back home," his mum had whispered fiercely  Louis stood there, ignoring Fizzy's pokes, watching two of the people he loved the most hugging and smiling and joking around.  And he felt so fond, so happy, in that instant that he wanted to pause time and just take it all in, snapping photos with his mind.  

While Harry turned to talk to Fizzy, though, Louis pulled his mum aside.  "Thanks again for having us, mum.  I really did miss you, and the girls, like so fucking much."  Jay had smacked him lightly on the arm ( _language, Louis Tomlinson_ ), throwing her arms around him and cuddling him close.   _Missed you too, baby. So much_.

 

(Oh, and Louis' Birthday Slash Christmas Present from Harry? Round-trip train tickets for two to Cheshire, and a pair of new trainers with a small silver promise ring hidden in the toe of the left shoe.)

**Author's Note:**

> this whole story will be written by me, haz. title from 'wild things' by san cisco


End file.
